


Kinktober : Marvel Edition

by CantSinkMyShip



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A/B/O, Accidental Exhibitionism, Aftercare, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Play, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Balcony Sex, Barebacking, Car Sex, Casual Sex, Cock Warming, Cock Worship, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, F/F, Feelings, Femslash, Flogging, Fluff and Smut, Glory Hole, Group Sex, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Honeymoon, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Lapdance, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Paddling, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Punishment, Role Reversal, Rough Oral Sex, S&M, Sadism, Self-Esteem Issues, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sex in a Car, Shower Sex, Size Kink, Spanking, Spitroasting, Strap-Ons, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Threesome - M/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Voyeurism, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves, monsters fucking, really dirty dirty talk, spanking bench, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-11-10 15:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20854124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantSinkMyShip/pseuds/CantSinkMyShip
Summary: Kinktober :Day 01 : Size Kink : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 02 : Dirty Talk : Steve Rogers/Bucky BarnesDay 03 : Role Reversal : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 04 : A/B/O : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 05 : Glory Hole : Tony Stark/Anonymous (until it isn't)Day 06 : Thigh Riding : Natasha Romanov/Wanda MaximoffDay 07 : Praise Kink : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 08 : Masturbation : Steve RogersDay 09 : Nipple Kink : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 10 : Daddy Kink : Natasha Romanov/Wanda MaximoffDay 11 : Balcony Sex : Steve Rogers/Tony StarkDay 12 : Voyeurism : Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes, Phil Coulson/Clint Barton, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Clint BartonDay 13 : Hair Pulling : Steve Rogers/Tony StarkDay 14 : Public/Semi-Public Sex : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 15 : Mutual Masturbation : Steve Rogers/Tony StarkDay 16 : Cock Warming : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 17 : Monsters Fucking : Steve Rogers/Tony StarkDay 18 : Cock Worship : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 19 : Spanking : Phil Coulson/Clint BartonDay 20 : Sadism/Masochism : Phil Coulson/Clint Barton





	1. Day 01 : Size Kink

**Author's Note:**

> Real life is the worst and now I'm way behind. Kinktober will be bleeding into Kinkvember. Come hell or high water we'll get this finished. Thanks for sticking around :)
> 
> Forever thanks to askscienceboyfriends for being my accountability partner. Leave comments if you want to cheerlead me in this (slightly overwhelming) project.
> 
> No beta and I'm sleepy so sorry ahead of time.

Clint was used to closing up the gym alone, his clients always seemed to run later than the rest of the personal trainers, which was fine, Clint liked the quiet of the empty building. He locked the deadbolt and switched off the main lights on his way to the locker room and it wasn’t until he heard one of the showers running that he realized he wasn’t alone. He spotted Phil Coulson in the communal shower area, his back to the room, head hanging as the water beat down on his back. Phil was new to the gym and was still adjusting to the life of a physical trainer, even if he usually worked with the older crowd, working out for eight hours was exhausting. 

He made sure to make a little noise as he opened his locker, he didn’t want to surprise Phil with his presence but he wasn’t sure if conversation would be welcome. They’d been dancing around each other for a few weeks now. Clint would catch Phil watching him when he was stretching, his eyes lingering on Clint as he moved. Clint would pretend not to notice then send Phil a little smirk or a flirty wink. He was giving Phil to the end of the month to make a move or he was going to do it himself.

Shoving his sweat soaked clothes into his gym bag he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed towards the showers. Gym etiquette said; eyes up, be respectful. But there was so much of Phil on display. The breath of his shoulders and the slope of his back ending in an ass that Clint would literally kill to get his hands on. He allowed himself to look, just once, before pulling his eyes up and forward. He left an unused shower head between them before he hung his towel on the wall and turned on his own water.

The shock of the cold water on his heated skin perked him up, but as soon as the water started running warm he let himself relax into the spray. He loved his job but he had too many shifts in a row without a day off in sight. 

“Long day?”

Clint hadn’t forgotten Phil was there as much as he was forcing himself not to think about it. Because sneaking a peek was one thing, but popping a boner in the communal shower was another. He didn’t lift his head from the spray, wouldn’t tempt himself like that, instead just laughed, “You could say that, I had to pick up some of Steve’s clients today. The look of disappointment on their faces was almost comical. I’ll be glad when he’s back and I can finally get a day off. What about you?”

He wasn’t going to peek. Really, he wasn’t. But when someone talks to you, you give them your attention. And when it’s a guy you’ve been crushing on for a few weeks and he’s _naked_, well sometimes your attention slips a little farther south. He’s only human after all.

Rationally he knew Phil was speaking. He could hear words over the sound of their showerheads. But his vision had narrowed and all higher functions ceased to operate because Clint had never seen a dick as big as the one he was currently gawking at. And gawking was the only word that could be used, Clint’s eyes were bugging out of his head and he swore he felt himself salivate like one of Pavlov’s dogs.

Some part of his barely functioning brain was _screaming _at him to stop staring. Phil was going to catch him. This was so inappropriate that it bordered on creepy and if he ever wanted a chance to actually _date _Phil he couldn’t be caught acting like a predator. 

Very slowly he lifted his eyes from Phil’s dick, followed the path of the water around Phil’s navel, up through his chest hair and finally looked him in the eye. It was immediately apparent that he’d been caught. But instead of anger or disgust or even embarrassment, he found Phil wearing a smirk of his own. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his hips towards Clint as if to say, _had your fill or do you want to keep looking?_

“I…” Clint had no way of talking himself out of the hole his eyes had dug, especially not with the way that his eyes kept going down between Phil’s legs and back up to his eyes again, “I should apologize.” His eyes darted down again, there was no way that thing was real. Fuck he was _soft _and he was bigger than most of the porn Clint watched. “I know I should.” He said, still staring at Phil’s dick so it seemed like he was addressing the organ and not the man, “But _fuck _I want to blow you so bad.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to look surprised, that definitely wasn’t the response he was expecting. Maybe one of those flirty winks, or a one-liner Clint seemed to produce that skirted the line between appropriate and outrageous. Anything but a proposition. Phil was now the one stumbling over his words, “I… what? I mean… what?”

Clint was never shy about going after what he wanted, and all he wanted at that moment was Phil’s huge cock so deep in his throat he could feel it in his heart. He stepped a little closer, not into Phil’s personal space because he wasn’t sure if he was welcome, but close enough to show that he was serious. “Please Phil.” He was shocked at how thick his voice was, how hard his own dick had gotten. He licked his lips, water running down his body, clinging to the eyelashes he was looking up at Phil through, “I want it inside me, I’ll beg if I have to.”

He looked back down and didn’t think begging would be necessary because Phil’s dick was filling out, getting longer and _thicker _and Clint felt a whimper leave his lips without his permission. He didn’t know it was possible to be both a grower _and _a shower. He bit the bottom of his lip, forcing himself to keep his hands down, since it seemed impossible to keep his eyes up. Clint had always been a bit of a size queen. He loved getting fucked deep and viciously, the kind of sex you could feel for days afterwards. 

He couldn’t imagine how long he’d be feeling the effect of that monster cock.

The words, “I won’t make you beg.” barely left Phil’s mouth before Clint found himself on his knees. He hadn’t even felt himself hit the tile, another part of his body he was sure would be sore tomorrow. He pressed his face against Phil’s cock, almost nuzzling it, as if it were something to be cherished, cursing himself for not asking Phil out sooner.

“Fuck.” Clint hisses against Phil’s skin before wrapping his hand around the base, groaning when his fingers didn’t come close to touching. He licked a broad stripe up the side of his cock and lapped at the head, tasting Phil under the taste of water and the smell of soap. 

His eyes slipped closed as he took Phil into his mouth, feeling his lips stretching, his tongue being pressed down into his jaw, he was feeling _invaded _and it was the most arousing feeling Clint had ever experienced. He felt the head brush against the back of his throat and groaned loudly when he realized he still had _inches _left of Phil’s dick to get into his mouth. He pulled back and sucked on the head, tonguing the slit to coax out as much precome as he could, he wanted to taste Phil, to have all his senses invaded by the other man. 

He looked up through his lashes to find Phil looking down at him in awe, but not doing much else. Clint reached for his hands and put them both on the back of his head. Phil ran his fingers through the wet locks but Clint just put his hands over Phil’s, applying pressure until the other man understood what he wanted. Deep-throating was almost a religious experience and he wanted to _worship _Phil. 

Clint was lowering his mouth back onto Phil’s cock, but this time he didn’t stop when Phil’s dick brushed the back of his throat. He relaxed his muscles the best he could and took more in than he ever had before. Until he couldn’t breathe. Until everything faded to Phil’s cock and nothing else mattered. He grabbed Phil’s hips and pulled him closer, gagging until he finally, _finally _felt pubic hair against his nose. 

Clint couldn’t believe this was happening, he’d found his Cinderella cock.

He felt one of Phil’s hands leave his head and cup his cheek, heard, “You’re going to hurt yourself darling.” over the spray of the water. 

Lungs screaming, Clint pulled back to breathe, not letting Phil’s cock fall from his lips. Instead he just looked up at Phil, held his eyes and slid back down on his dick, bobbing his head a few times before taking him back down his throat. Clint felt so full, in the back of his mind he wondered if he’d ever be satisfied by another cock again. 

He imagined how he must look, lips stretched wide, drool leaking out of both sides of his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in total contentment. Phil must have liked it because Clint felt his hand on his face again, this time Phil’s thumb was brushing over the side of his mouth, feeling the stretch the massive girth was causing. “Look at you… Taking it all… So perfect.” Phil carded his hand through Clint’s hair before pushing just slightly on the back of his head, feeling Clint’s throat flutter, trying to adjust to the immense intrusion. “No one’s ever been able to take me all the way, Clint. You feel so good… So, so good.” 

Clint could feel Phil’s entire body tightening up and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He dropped one hand to his neglected erection before pulling back for one last breath, he wanted to make Phil see stars. He pushed himself again, until he felt Phil’s pelvis against his lips, and started swallowing the best he could, knowing it would feel like a vice around Phil’s cock. He was so close to gagging but it was worth it, the sounds that were pouring out of Phil were _sinful_ and Clint couldn’t get enough of them. They went straight to his own cock and he was coming seconds before Phil’s own orgasm. Clint pulled back just enough to breathe but didn’t really want to let Phil’s cock go. He could have stayed on his knees in the shower all night if Phil would have let him. 

But Phil eased himself out of Clint’s mouth, his eyes wide with shock, Clint wasn’t sure if it was from Clint’s skill level, or the fact that it happened at all. He was happy either way. He stood up slowly, clearing his throat in a way that made Phil’s cock twitch, then just rasped out, “Thanks Phil.” winked, and left. 


	2. Day 02 : Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky brings home the buttoned-up, stuffy, shall we say, repressed, Steve after their first date and is delighted to find out he's a lot different outside the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not 100% happy with the way this turned out, may return to it later, but I hope you enjoy.

Bucky almost didn’t ask Steve out. They’d only worked together a few months but Steve had already earned a reputation of being, well, a little repressed. Despite being built like a brick shithouse, Steve always wore button up shirts and khakis. He never cussed, never cracked a dirty joke or made an inappropriate comment. He was disgustingly wholesome, a little boring and very much someone Bucky wanted to corrupt.

So imagine his surprise when they wandered back to Bucky’s apartment after their first date (Steve walking him home like a gentleman, Bucky inviting him in for coffee which they both knew was a pretense) and Steve captured his mouth without hesitation. As if they’d kissed a thousand times before and it was something Steve felt comfortable doing. “Been thinkin’ about doin’ that all night.” Steve mumbled against Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky felt his face heat up, he shrugged out of his jacket and let it fall to the floor, blaming the layers rather than Steve’s proximity, “Oh yeah? What else have you been thinking about?” 

Steve shifted so his thigh brushed against Bucky’s crotch, “What your cock tastes like.”

The sound that escaped Bucky’s throat would have been embarrassing except that it was so high pitched he was hoping Steve wouldn’t be able to hear it. Judging by the smug look on his face Bucky wasn’t that lucky. He tried to swallow, tried to slow down both his heart and his dick. “Wh… what?” he was into whatever was happening. Very into it. But it was just a shock and he needed a moment to change gears.

Steve’s hands tightened against Bucky’s hips and leaned in to lick a stripe up his throat, biting his earlobe before growling against it, “I was thinking about sucking your cock. About how pretty you’d look all spread out underneath him.” He pressed his thigh a little tighter, feeling how hard Bucky had gotten in the few minutes they’d been in his apartment, “About whether or not you’d let me taste you here.” His hand squeezing Bucky’s ass to emphasize his words was the final straw. 

Bucky grabbed his hand and tugged him towards his bedroom, “You better be able to back those words up.” 

As soon as he kicked the door shut Steve was on him again, mouth on his jaw as he pulled Bucky’s Henley from his obscenely tight pants. His hands made their way up under his shirt, mapping out his flushed skin, eager for more as he purred into Bucky’s ear, “What do you want baby? Tell me and I’ll make you come so hard you’ll see stars.”  
What did he want? Bucky could barely think straight. He knew he wanted Steve naked but there were so many buttons on his shirt, “I want you to wear shirts that are a lot easier to take off.” He fumbled with the last button before pushing the fabric off of Steve’s shoulders and taking a step back just to look, “Fuck. I fantasized about this before but I couldn’t even dream up a body like this.”

Steve chuckled, “Sweet talker.” He pulled Bucky’s shirt off, taking in his slightly smaller frame, before pressing their bodies together and ravaging his mouth in another breath stealing kiss. The way Bucky’s body felt pressed up against his was nothing short of life changing, he wanted to chart every inch of that skin, taste every crevice until Bucky was a moaning mess, but first, “Talk to me Buck. What do you want? I want to make sure you’re taken care of.” 

“Just…” Bucky’s chest was expanding double time to recover from that kiss, “keep talking.”

Steve was delighted, sometimes his mouth got away from him and he knew it could be a turn off for some, but if the noises Bucky was making were any indication, he wasn’t one of them. “Want me to tell you what I fantasized about?” he asked sliding Bucky’s pants and briefs down until they pooled around his ankle. He took Bucky’s dick in his hand, stroking it lightly, just teasing, “I fantasized about licking every inch of your body, about finding out which parts of you were sensitive.” He leaned down and flicked his tongue against Bucky’s hard nipple, looking up to watch his mouth fall open and a whimper crawl out. “About making my way down your body slowly, listening to your noises as I got closer to what we both wanted.” Steve kissed his way down Bucky’s abs, stopping to nip at his bellybutton before kneeling in front of him, “About whether you were cut or not. Those jeans leave little to the imagination.” He sucked the head of Bucky’s cock into his mouth, tongue swirling lazily around the head. He pulled his mouth off with a pop, hand wrapped around the base to keep it from springing back up to slap against his skin. “Mostly I wondered how you’d taste when you were coming down my throat. And now that I’m here, I can’t wait to find out.”

As it turned out, Steve’s mouth was good for more than filthy words, and true to Steve’s promise, Bucky did see stars.


	3. Day 03 : Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's very happy being Phil's sweet boy, but then Clint realizes that part of being a good lover is being versatile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Staying on track is a lot harder than I thought it would be, but three days down! I think this is my favorite one yet, a little more romance than smut but you have to go where the prompt takes you. 
> 
> Just gave it a quick once over, I'm sure there are typos, sorry guys. Hope you enjoy!

“Okay.” Clint rubbed the back of his neck, this time he wasn’t doing it just to show off his bicep (although he did love the face Phil made when he did), “I know this is cheating but you gotta help me out. I have no idea what to get you for your birthday.”

The flutter that ran through Phil’s chest was almost a little embarrassing. He knew that none of Clint’s previous relationships had been, well, normal. Clint wasn’t used to things like birthday celebrations or holiday parties or anniversaries. The fact that he was even trying was a gift in itself.

“C’mere sweet boy.” Phil reached for both of Clint’s wrists and pulled him closer until Clint was pressed up against him. He slipped his hands around Clint’s waist and soaked up the bashful smile he got whenever he doted on Clint. “I know I should say you don’t have to get me anything, but there is one thing I’d like…” he let his voice trail off just to watch Clint’s face light up with curiosity.

Clint’s fingers carded through the hair at the nape of Phil’s neck, “What? Anything.”

Phil leaned in and brushed the tip of his nose along Clint’s jaw, tracing the stubbled skin all the way to nip at his earlobe before whispering against it, “I want you to fuck me.”

The yelp that Clint emitted was a little startling. Phil rubbed circles into Clint’s lower back with his thumbs, “Would you like that baby?” There was always the chance that this would backfire. They had an incredibly enthusiastic sex life that Phil had absolutely no complaints about, this wasn’t something he was missing, just something he knew he’d enjoy. But he would never ask for something that made his partner uncomfortable. So, when Clint didn’t respond Phil pulled back to look at his face and breathed a sigh of relief. Clint looked completely gobsmacked.

“Really?” he opened and closed his mouth a few times, grasping for words and coming up empty before, “You’d really let me?” The amazement that spread over Clint’s face made Phil wonder about all his past lovers. How did no one see what he saw? This amazing boy that Phil was going to cherish as long as Clint would let him.

Phil really couldn’t be blamed for leaning in and capturing Clint’s mouth in a kiss. He coaxed Clint’s tongue into his mouth and let him dominate the kiss as they walked backwards slowly towards the bedroom. “I know I usually take control.” Phil started, voice low with arousal, “But maybe tonight we could practice for my birthday and you can be in charge.”

The look on Clint’s face said it all, but if it hadn’t, the way he tore his t-shirt off, while trying to shimmy out of his pants was a good sign that he was just as into the idea as Phil. “Fuck. Phil. Just… fuck. Get naked and lay on the bed.” Any concern that Clint wouldn’t be able to get into the right headspace faded away with his first command. And it was a command; the coy, sweet boy that Phil loved so much had faded into a tougher, more self-assured man and it was just as arousing. 

Phil took his clothes off slower, folding them over the back of a chair before sprawling out in the middle of the bed. He thought about touching himself, stroking himself just a little bit to take the edge off but he wanted to wait for Clint, wanted to see what the younger man had in mind. “Safeword?” Clint’s voice wasn’t quite a growl, it lacked the fierceness of that word, but it was husky and low and doing all kinds of things to Phil’s cock.

“Corvette.” 

God. Just imagining the things going through Clint’s head was maddening. His dick was harder than it’d been in a long time, he finally allowed himself to reach down and touch it, just a little, just so he wasn’t so on edge. But Clint tsk’ed him. He actually tsk’ed him, finger and all, “I thought you were going to be good for me, sweet boy.” 

Sweet boy. Those were the kind of words Phil whispered against his skin, the words that made Clint lilt towards him like a flower to the sun. Typically, they only worked one way but nothing was typical about the look on Clint’s face as he said them. Phil’s dick was twitching and he was curling his toes against the sheets to keep still. To be Clint’s good boy.

Watching Clint as he climbed on top of the bed, then on top of Phil himself, was like watching art, his lithe muscles moving under tan skin, so fucking beautiful. He settled over Phil’s thighs, hands trailing over Phil’s chest, through his chest hair, brushing against his nipples as Phil whimpered softly, “Please Clint?”

Clint moved slowly to brace his hands on either side of Phil’s head and leaned down even slower. He studied Phil’s face, trying to read everything he wanted and needed in just the lines of his skin and the curve of his lips. “Anything sweetheart.” He brushed their lips together as he reached for the bottle of lube on the side table, “I’m gonna make this so good for you.”

Fingering Phil open was more of a gift to Clint than to Phil, watching the way his mouth would hang open in silent wonder as Clint scissored his digits inside his tight opening. Watching the line of his throat as he threw his head back each time Clint massaged his prostrate. “You’re so beautiful like this.” Clint nipped along Phil’s collarbone, mumbling against the heated skin, “You’re taking my fingers so well. I bet it’ll feel even better when you’re stuffed full of my cock.”

Clint was in awe of the way Phil was biting his lip and whimpering, hands curled down at his side because Clint never told him he could touch; this strong, dominant man was completely at Clint’s mercy, it was a heady feeling. Kissing his way down Phil’s body slowly, he categorized the differences between this Phil and the more in control, aggressive man and realized they were all part of what made Phil such an incredible partner. 

He added lube to both hands, working his way up to three fingers as he started stroking Phil’s erection, it was overstimulating Phil and he knew it, but watching him unravel was too breathtaking to stop. Phil didn’t even warn him as he was coming, he almost looked surprised himself, like the orgasm was ripped out of him instead of something he’d allowed to happen. “I thought… you were gonna… fuck me.” Phil panted out, reaching for Clint to drag him back up for a kiss.

Clint grinned against Phil’s lips, “This was just practice. It might take a couple tries to get it right.”

Phil reached up with trembling hands, the orgasm having ravaged his entire body, “I think you might be right.” He placed a soft kiss against Clint’s mouth and added, “My sweet boy.”


	4. Day 04 : A/B/O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Struck by an oncoming rut he wasn't expecting, Phil Coulson takes refuge in small Iowa town and there's just something about the town bartender that catches his attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, a/b/o wasn't really my thing. Askscienceboyfriends sent me some recs and she's got great taste in fics so I read them and I found myself (mostly) enjoying them. Fast forward to today, I'm staring at this prompt, unsure if I even know enough about a/b/o to write it but askscienceboyfriends came to my rescue as my cheerleader and the Tony Stark to my Steve Rogers. So anyway, it's done, it's completely for her. If you don't like it, be nice, okay? I tried.

Phil knew better. Really, he did. An unmated alpha had no business showing up in a small town so close to his rut. But his rut was supposed to be a week off and he was supposed to have been back to the east coast by now, it was just one thing after the other and he needed hot food and a cold shower. Usually a good navigator, he figured he must have made a wrong turn somewhere because he didn’t remember Iowa being on the route but, sure enough, he passed a sign “Welcome to Waverly, Iowa”. 

He pulled into bar that advertised “the best chili in the Midwest” and decided to chance it. It wasn’t as if everyone stopped and stared at him like they do in an old western when a stranger comes to town. But everyone’s body language went from ‘having a good time’ to ‘on high alert’. Phil just wanted to eat, sleep and put this place in his rearview mirror. 

He could only see the bartender from behind, he was well built; impressive arms and shoulders. Not to mention how sinful his ass looked in the jeans he was wearing. He chastised himself for letting his thoughts wander, he always had less control over them this close to his rut. Early ruts were worse. It wasn’t fair how biology could contort your thoughts, make you a slave to your baser urges. 

Phil really needed that cold shower.

He took a seat at the bar and tried to look unassuming, hoping the scent of his rut would spare him the polite chit chat small towns were famous for. It seemed to be working, everyone keeping their distance. The only person who didn’t look on edge was the bartender. He threw a towel over his shoulder and headed towards Phil with a cock sure smile and swagger in his step, “Hey there, I’m Clint, what can I get for you?”

As soon as the man was within arms reach Phil could smell the omega rolling off of him, making his dick twitch to life. Fucking rut. “I guess I’ll try some of the best chili in the Midwest.” He said, firm but soft, making special effort not to sound overly familiar with the younger man. 

Clint just laughed and rested his forearms on the bar, leaning into Phil’s personal space, “I’m gonna tell you a secret.” Phil could sense the unease of the entire room as Clint came closer, he made sure to keep his hands open on the bar, trying to give off the impression that he wasn’t a threat. “The chili is just out of a can. But our burgers, those are thick and juicy. Fill you right up.”

Phil wasn’t sure if this kid was just flirting for a bigger tip or to stir up trouble but either way it made Phil a little nervous. He flashed Clint a tight smile, “I guess I’ll have the burger then.”

He ate his burger and gradually the tension in the room lessened and, while Phil could still sense people were keeping an eye on him, it seemed more like curiosity than vigilance. He watched Clint wipe down the bar, trying not to be obvious but there was something pulling him to Clint, almost a physical sensation in the center of his chest. He told himself it was just the rut; it was coming on too early and in the presence of an unmated omega.

Clint slid a piece of register paper over to him, but instead of a receipt it looked like a very precise map, “That’s my place, there’s parking around back, you can wait there until I get finished here. Shouldn’t be more than half an hour.” Phil looked up stunned, he wasn’t sure what to say, he’d been picked up in bars before but never like this, and never by an omega when he was reeking of rut. Clint leaned closer, his voice dropping to make sure he wasn’t overheard, “Your scent… I can’t figure it out, I’ve never smelled anything like it. I’ve been wanting to come over the bar and rub off on you from the moment you walked in the door. But gratefully, I have some self-control.” Clint pulled back with a smirk, “For now.” 

What was left of his rational brain kept telling him this could be a trap, a gorgeous omega luring him out at night. But that bigger part, that Alpha part, was saying this kid, he was important. Maybe even in a way Phil wasn’t ready to think about yet. 

When the moment of truth came Phil was parked in front of a detached garage behind a small house. He watched a motorcycle headlight come up around the drive way, passed the well-kept yard and the honest-to-god white picket fence. Clint climbed off the bike, pulling his helmet off, Phil swore it was almost in slow motion. Clint ran his hand through his hair, the moon reflecting off his leather jacket to make the younger man look almost ethereal. Phil was rock hard.

He got out of the car slowly, all the anxiety melting away when he saw Clint’s smile. The other man looked relieved to see him; Phil realized Clint was afraid he wouldn’t show up. “You feel it too, right?” Phil was impressed at his bravery, at his willingness to put himself on the line. 

“I came, didn’t I?” It wasn’t really an answer but Clint let it slide. 

Clint turned and led them towards the backdoor, completely comfortable with Phil at his back, encroaching rut and all. He had barely shut the door behind him when Clint had tossed his helmet on the ground and pressed his face into Phil’s neck. He inhaled deeply, groaning loudly enough that Phil gave thanks they were in a house, not an apartment. “That smell. It’s… Fuck.” He nuzzled into Phil’s throat, letting his teeth scrape at the skin as he tossed his jacket blindly towards an armchair. 

Phil didn’t wait for Clint to expound on his mumbled groans, he just followed as the younger man walked backwards through the dimly lit house. “I’ve been with alphas, betas and even a few omegas, but I’ve never smelled anyone like you before.” The strange thing was, if he was asked to describe Phil’s scent, he wouldn’t have been able to put it to words. He couldn’t pinpoint an individual smell; it was more the feelings they invoked. Safe and home, two words that had never really gone together, but also belonging and stability and devotion. Clint wanted to drown in it. 

Phil watched as Clint tore his shirt off, following him down the narrow hallway, raising an eyebrow as he discarded it to the floor without a second thought. “What’s the hurry Clint?” Phil asked eyes too busy drinking in all the exposed skin to realize they had reached their final destination. 

Clint kicked his boots off into the corner of his messy bedroom and looked back up with wide eyes, “What’s the hurry?” He eased his jeans down his body, standing before a fully clothed Phil in tight purple boxer-briefs, “This is the hurry.” Phil’s eyes went right to the damp spot where Clint’s cock was leaking into his underwear, a growing stain clearly obvious.

Phil was stunned, he’d seen it happen before, of course, hell it had happened to him. But after long bouts of making out and writhing against someone. Not just being in the vicinity of another person. “Clint.” The man’s name came out as a whisper and that was all it took to get an arm full of mostly naked omega, Phil’s arms wrapping around him instinctively. And fuck did he smell good, like springtime and new beginnings, like finding something he hadn’t known he’d lost, like contentment and adoration. 

Clint reached for one of Phil’s hands that was resting at the small of his back and pushed it down to the swell of his ass so Phil could feel the wet spot there too, “So is this. Just being near you at the bar had me so wet. All I could think about was getting back here and taking your knot.” 

It was Phil’s turn to press his face against Clint’s throat, inhaling his scent as he squeezed Clint’s ass and pressed their hips together. He scraped his teeth over the scent glad in his neck, a growl crawling out his throat without knowing it was even forming, “Mine.”

Clint’s knees literally went weak and it was fortunate for him that Phil still had his arms wrapped around the omega, “Yes. I felt it as soon as you came into the bar. I didn’t even see you before I knew but when I turned around…” Clint reached up and cupped Phil’s face, “You were so fucking hot I wanted you to mount me right there in front of the entire town.” 

Their lips crashed together in a kiss that was heat and fire and aggression. Phil knew it was going to be his last first kiss. 

Phil tried his best to strip himself while still kissing Clint but when the feat got too complicated, he tugged at Clint’s underwear, “Take these off and get on the bed.” 

Clint’s body was a vivid distraction and while climbing onto the messy pile of sheets Phil ended up discarding his clothes in random directions. He had no plans of sneaking out in the middle of the night, whatever was happening between them was going to be worth sticking around for. When he had finally flung the last of his clothing off, he crawled up the bed, kneeling next to Clint, taking in his body reverently. His groin was slick where he’d been leaking precome against his skin, Phil wanted to lap it up, but before anything else, he tapped the inside of Clint’s thigh and asked, “Can I see how wet you are?”

The light was dim but Phil swore he could see Clint flush, but the omega slid his legs open bending at the knees to give Phil better access. Phil almost bit his tongue to stop from groaning out loud but then remembered this was his omega and he wanted the younger man to know that there was no need to blush. His cheeks were slick and he could see that he was almost leaking with excitement. The visual was almost too much but combined with the smells rolling off of him, Phil feared even knotting him wouldn’t be enough to satiate the hunger clawing at his ribs. 

Phil’s deft fingers massaged around Clint’s entrance, amazed at how slick they were without even penetrating him. Clint leveraged himself up towards Phil’s hand and the older man got the message, his first finger slid in effortlessly, the second one wasn’t much of a stretch either, but the way Clint’s face contorted just a bit when Phil pressed the third in, well, that was a sight he wouldn’t forget as long as he lived. 

“I’m ready for you, Alpha.” the words sounded like they didn’t come from Clint’s mouth at all, but from some primitive, private place. And Phil, having never been one for honorifics, added that sound to the list of things he’d never forget. 

Phil’s fingers withdrew slowly, much to Clint’s frustration but then Phil tapped his hip, “Turn over.”

“But I want to see you.” Clint whined, but the words came a little stronger this time, less lust-drunk. 

Phil leaned in and nipped at his throat, rumbling against the heated skin, “I thought you wanted my knot, my precious omega. The way you’re making me feel… I have no idea how long it’ll take to go down.” 

It was the truth, but if he’d known how Clint would react to those words, he’d have said it no matter what. Clint’s eyes flew open, dilated so wide they were almost completely black. He immediately flipped over, ass up in the air, a mixture of purrs and whimpers falling from his throat, “Please, Alpha, please.” 

Phil settled in between Clint’s thighs and the snarling Alpha in the back of his mind just wanted to shove inside and claim what was his. But Phil had evolved past that. He rubbed his hands over Clint’s back, speaking softly, “Shhh, I got you Clint. I’m going to take such good care of you, just relax sweetheart.” 

When Clint’s breathing normalized Phil lined himself up and sank slowly inside his omega. It was like no other feeling in the world, it could have been his first time for how unprepared he felt for the emotions bubbling up. “Jesus, Clint. You feel…” it was such a profound feeling that there were no words. And he could tell he wasn’t the only one feeling it as Clint blindly reached back to hold his hand. 

He let Clint squeeze his hand as Phil started fucking him in earnest, that primal part of his alpha brain taking over. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

When he started to feel his knot swell he tried to slow down, he saw how sensitive Clint had been on Phil’s fingers. Clint was on knees and elbows as Phil draped himself over the omega’s back, lapping at his scent glad. Every sense was overwhelmed, it felt like Clint was invading his body, Phil was breathing him in; Clint was in his lungs, in his chest, in his heart, just as sure as Phil was inside of him. 

He felt Clint nod, and he was glad for it later, to know that he’d gotten visual consent, but there was never any doubt for Phil that this was what they both wanted. His teeth sank into Clint’s flesh just as his knot lodged inside the omega, the younger man coming, completely untouched, shuttering and sobbing. 

The bond took instantly, tearing through their bodies, Phil could feel his very DNA being rewritten. He supposed this is why knots existed in the first place, keeping their bodies tightly pressed together as their bodies changed subtly, just enough so they would no longer smell unmated, so that they would always sense each other. They belonged to the other now; Phil to Clint just as much as the omega belonged to the alpha.

Phil lapped at the broken skin where his teeth had bonded them, Clint’s breath evening out where he was tucked against Phil’s chest. It was then he realized it hadn’t been an early rut at all, Clint had been calling for him, his body singing to him. Phil had been pulled towards the younger man through forests and deserts and cities, hundreds of miles from where he was supposed to be. But somehow, in the tiny town of Wavery, Iowa, Phil Coulson had found his home.


	5. Day 05 : Glory Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark never passes up an opportunity for a new experience, so when he hears the local sex shop has a glory hole, well he can't wait to try it out.

Growing up rich had its perks. Growing up disgustingly rich with little parental oversight really had its perks. There were few experiences Tony hadn’t tried once or twice by the time he was eighteen. He got a thrill out of pushing the boundaries of acceptability and he was smart enough to not get caught (mostly). So, when he mumblings of a glory hole over at the rundown sex shop at the edge of town, he knew that was one experience he wasn’t going to pass up. 

He parked his ostentatious sports car right in front of the store, flaunting the fact that Tony Stark, heir to his father’s blood money, was going to get his dick sucked by a faceless stranger. Just the thought was making his dick start to firm up. 

Despite the setting sun he had sunglasses on and he didn’t bother removing them from his face as he walked into the store. He just slid them down his nose, took in the sad display of sex toys and the sadder display of DVDs. Didn’t people know you could get that for free on the internet? 

He browsed the aisles for a few minutes, pausing at a display of rubber asses, wondering if anyone but serial killers wanted to have sex with a severed body part. He reminded himself he couldn’t throw stones as he pushed open the bathroom door. One of the stalls was locked and Tony’s dick was half hard in his pants. He had two supermodels and an NBA player he could call for no strings sex, but the idea of someone wanting to suck a dick so badly they were waiting around a sex shop bathroom, well that thought was intoxicating. 

Tony walked slowly into the neighboring stall, giving them both time to back out, to laugh it off. He eyed the hole in the wall between the stalls and his heart started racing, he could see movement in the other stall and that was it, he was rock hard. He started to unbuckle his pants when something happened that he hadn’t even considered. A dick slid through the hole into his stall.

The way his mouth had fallen open was almost comical, considering the situation, but instead he just stared at the dick wondering where it’d all went wrong. He was supposed to be putting his dick through that hole. He didn’t drive all the way out here to suck some random dude’s dick.

But, like, it was a nice dick.

Thick and, well, pretty¸ curved up slightly with a head that looked just the right size for Tony to wrap his lips around. And that was the moment that Tony realized that the only thing hotter than getting a mystery blow job was being the one to give it. 

“Uhhh…” the guy on the other side of the partition sounded a little confused and rightfully so, Tony wasn’t moving, he was just standing there staring. The dick started to disappear from view, and Tony just couldn’t let that happen. He dropped to his knees in pants that probably cost more than the rent on the building and flicked his tongue over the head of the stranger’s dick, trying to coax him back to play. 

As soon as the other man was in place Tony wrapped his lips around the head and began to suck gently, listening to the soft whimpers on the other side of the wall to figure out what the other man liked. He inched forward to take as much of the dick into his mouth that the space would allow. It was a strange sensation, having his face pushed up against cold metal instead of the warmth of another body. It was also strangely arousing, as if the man on the other side wasn’t a real person but just a cock for Tony to worship. 

He made sure to use lots of tongue and a little teeth, almost feeling drunk from the sounds filling the small room. The other man was obviously trying to keep his voice down but Tony had great technique and he was pulling out every trick the bathroom stall would allow. In fact, as soon as he got a good rhythm going, he pulled out his own dick, relieved to get it out of the confines of his designer jeans. He held the other man’s cock with one hand, stroking it slowly as he licked his own palm, making it easier to take care of both of them. 

Kneeling in a sex shop bathroom, sucking a stranger’s cock and jerking himself off wasn’t what Tony had imagined for the evening, but fuck was it hot. He heard the whimpers get louder, he brushed his lower teeth over the underside of the cock and immediately hear a whisper, “I’m gonna…”

Feeling this anonymous man come in his mouth was all it took to send him over the edge. He came on the floor between their stalls as he heard the last of the whimpers and moans fade to quiet breathing. Tony turned and spat into the toilet then got up and shoved himself back into his jeans before stumbling out of the stall. He rinsed his mouth out then started to wash his hands. Horror took over when he heard the other stall door open, “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to wait..” The horror was quickly replaced with shock when he got a look at the man exiting the stall. He was gorgeous. Tall, blonde and built. Cheeks pink from orgasm but also almost a bit of embarrassment. He probably thought Tony would let him leave without acknowledging him. 

He was wrong.

“Hi.” Tony turned around with a grin and leaned against the counter, far more confident than a man with come stains on his knees should be.

And instead of brushing him off, the other man actually smiled. It was real, genuine smile; not the seductive leers he got from one nighters at night clubs, “Hi.”

He pushed himself away from the counter, stepping closer to the stranger, not quite close enough to touch but close enough to see the glimmer in his eyes and the softness in his smile, “I’m Tony. Can I buy you dinner?”

It was obviously not the proposition he was expecting, which was why the answer was very simple, “I’m Steve, and I’d like that very much.”


	6. Day 06 : Thigh Riding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has been putting in long hours at the law firm and promised her girlfriend some quality time, but when she won't put her work away Wanda takes matters into her own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of firsts for me this month, I've never written femslash but I love a challenge. So comment if you liked it and just x out of the window if you didn't.

Natasha was sitting in the middle of the couch, tablet on one side of her, open file folder on the other, this case was going to well and truly be the end of her. The rest of the documents were spread out all over the coffee table, Natasha’s eyes scanning for anything they might have missed. She should have had Clint over; he had the sharpest eyes of anyone she knew and she’d need it to prove her client was innocent. But Clint had his own prep to deal with and Natasha had promised her girlfriend they’d actually spend some quality time together. 

“I thought you said you would be done with that by the time I got out of the bath.” Quality time she was obviously not spending with the aforementioned girlfriend. 

She looked over her shoulder and found Wanda in a silk robe Natasha had bought her on a trip to Japan. Her hair was up in a messy bun, locks falling around her face where they’d come loose, tips dark where they’d gotten wet in the bath. “I’m sorry, there’s just something I’m missing.” She threw her notebook on the coffee table and reached out for Wanda, motioning her to the couch, “I’m sorry babe, I know I promised you no work tonight but this is important.”

Wanda stood between Natasha’s legs, cupping her face with a soft smile, brushing pieces of red hair away from her cheeks where they’d started to curl up against her skin, “You know, a more insecure woman would hear that these papers are important and I am not.” She leaned down to press a chaste kiss against Natasha’s lips, “You are lucky I am not that woman.” 

Smiling into the kiss, Natasha rested her hands on Wanda’s hips, “You’re right, I am very lucky. And I promise when this case is over I will take you somewhere exotic. Maybe somewhere you can wear those little bathing suits I’m so fond of?”

Wanda chuckled softly, “The little bathing suits? What about what I’m wearing now?” Natasha was about to comment on the robe, about how much she liked seeing Wanda in the things Natasha had bought her when the robe hit the floor. 

It didn’t matter how many times Natasha took her to bed; Wanda was still a sight to behold. So much soft, pale skin; Natasha had mapped it over and over again with her hands, her tongue, her teeth. She knew Wanda’s slight frame better than she knew her own. Natasha’s legs spread a little wider, she leveraged herself up to steal another kiss, hands back on Wanda’s hips, moving up to drag her thumbs over her soft stomach, “I think you know exactly how fond I am of this as well.”

Natasha cascaded kisses down Wanda’s throat and across her collarbone, her lips arrived at her breasts just as her hands did. She cupped them both, thumbs brushing against her hard nipples as she kissed one, then the other. She smelled like the lavender bath oils they’d gotten in Paris. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you doubt that.” 

Wanda threaded her fingers through Natasha’s hair, holding her against her chest where Natasha’s teeth were worrying her nipples. “Doubt? No. But missed you?” she tilted Natasha’s head up, watching as her lips closed around her nipple but her eyes raised to meet the younger girls, “Absolutely.”

There had been a plan to drag Natasha to bed but as soon as Natasha’s mouth started to wander the plan went to hell. Instead she pushed on Natasha’s shoulders, crawling into her lap to capture her mouth in a heated kiss, pouring in all the emotion that she could never quite articulate. Her kisses started to trail down Natasha’s throat, licking and nipping at her collarbone where it was exposed by the neckline of her expensive silk blouse. Natasha’s breathing was increasing and her blood red fingernails were scraping into Wanda’s back but despite all of that, and despite the wetness already forming between her legs, she shook her head, “I really gotta get through this baby.”

“So? I am not stopping you.” Wanda eased one leg between Natasha’s and the other next to the open folder. She settled herself against Natasha’s thigh, widening her legs just enough so that her clit was in direct contact with her pant leg. She started rocking slowly, one hand on the back of the couch, the other slipping down Natasha’s shirt, cupping her breast beneath the lace bra underneath. 

Natasha had grabbed the tablet, as if naïve enough to believe that Wanda would start something then just walk away, her other hand was clutching Wanda’s hips, “These pants were imported from Italy.”

Wanda chuckled darkly, “So? You said quality time.” Her movements were becoming more erratic. She could feel herself leaking all over Natasha’s thigh, she reached up and pulled her ponytail out, her hair tumbling down around her shoulders and breasts. She was going to make damn sure Natasha remembered what she was neglecting. She pulled her hand out of Natasha’s shirt to start pinching her own nipples, head falling back, moaning a little louder than she normally would have. “Tasha, you feel so good. Just feeling you all over like this.” 

She was putting on a show and they both knew it, but Natasha was too enraptured to do anything but watch. Wanda pressed their mouths together, kissing her with tongue and teeth, desperation and desire, “Tell me you love me.” 

Natasha abandoned the tablet and held both of Wanda’s hips as she growled into the kiss, “I love you, moya alaya ved'ma.” My scarlet witch. The words she purred into Wanda’s flesh for almost a year before explaining. Just hearing it again was enough to pull her orgasm out of her. She whimpered and groaned into Natasha’s mouth and Natasha ate up each and every sound.

Wanda collapsed against Natasha’s chest, all that luxurious fabric against her nude body, momentarily contented enough to ignore the slick feeling between her legs. She tucked her head against Natasha’s shoulder, relaxing into her lover’s body, Natasha’s hands slowly rubbing up and down her back. Her eyelids fluttered but then she caught site of the open folder next to her leg. She picked up one of the pictures and sat up, showing it to Natasha, “This man here, his tattoo.”

Natasha was enjoying the way the night was unfolding and didn’t want to turn her attention back to work, “Yeah, heartbreaker.” She scoffed at the tattoo, the guy was pocked marked and greasy, Natasha doubted he’d broke many hearts at all.

“Yes, but in Sokovian it also means,” she tipped her head back, as if running through her mental rolodex of English phrases, “To stop a heart. This man has killed before. And he’s proud of it.”

Suddenly all the pieces were falling into place, “Wanda, that’s what I needed, that’s the missing piece.” She pressed a vicious kiss to the younger girl’s mouth and swatted at her ass playfully, “I should have taken a break a long time ago. I hope you’re ready for round two because I know just how to thank you.”


	7. Day 07 : Praise Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting passed up for a mission for a "bad attitude" Phil teaches Clint that that's just one man's opinion.

The halls were dimming, most of the agents having left hours ago, that made the light from under Phil’s door shine even brighter, like a beacon. He took a deep breath, raised his hand to knock but second guessed himself immediately. If Phil was still in his office then whatever he was working on must be important… But Phil had told him that he would always be available if Clint needed him. Did Clint need him? He was just a little antsy, stretched a little too far over the last few missions. Surely, he could get his shit together himself and leave Phil be.

Before he could turn and walk away, he heard a voice from inside the office call out, “C’mon in Barton.”

He sheepishly pushed the door open, rubbing the back of his neck, unable to meet Phil’s eyes, “Sorry boss, I didn’t mean to bother you. I can come back another time.”

“How many times have I told you that you _aren’t_ bothering me.” Clint looked up in just enough time to watch Phil slide his glasses off. Clint had spent many lonely nights thinking about those glasses. He just shrugged and shut the door behind him, curling up on the end of the couch in Phil’s small office. “I should actually thank you, I’ve been needing a break for a few hours now.” He smiled warmly at Clint, “There’s always just ‘one more thing’ next thing you know it’s…” he checked his watch and his eyes went wide, “Whoa. Forget break, maybe I just need to go home for the night.”

Before the words were out of his mouth Clint had risen, “Of course, I’ll leave you to it. Have a good night, Sir.”

Phil had just rounded his desk so he was close enough to reach out to grab Clint’s wrist, “Barton, talk to me. You’re obviously upset and I’m so proud of you for coming to me. I just need to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Clint felt a soft warmth roll through his body like a wave, Phil was the only person who really saw him, saw what he needed and gave it freely. “Today was… bad.” He said it mostly to his boots but looked up slowly into Phil’s eyes, “Gibson passed me up for the Ecuador mission because I have ‘a bad attitude that can and will compromise mission objectives’.” Phil would have expected him to be angry but his voice was flat, like he believed the words.

It still shocked Phil sometimes, how anyone could look at Clint and see the mask he so firmly held in place. With his free hand he cupped the back of Clint’s neck, squeezing gently. “You may have an attitude problem sometimes…” Phil started, squeezing the back of Clint’s neck again when he let his eyes fall, “but you would _never _compromise mission objective unless one of our agents was in imminent risk. Clint, you’re one of the best agents Shield has _ever _had. You’re intelligent, talented and loyal to a fault. Gibson was just afraid you’d show him up.”

Clint couldn’t help but preen under Phil’s words. Phil valued honesty above all else so there had to be some truth to the praise Phil lavished on him. Still, he could feel his cheeks heat up, from the words and because he realized this is what he’d come to Phil for. For Phil to tell him that he was _good, _that he was _smart _and _needed _and _wanted._

The hand on Clint’s wrist moved to tangle their fingers together and the hand on his neck slid around to cradle his jaw, “You are incredible, Clint. Not just as an agent, but as a person. You’re more than just astounding aim, you have astounding heart. I count myself lucky to know you.”

And really, how was Clint supposed to react to that? To Phil calling him _Clint _and staring into his eyes and using words like incredible and astounding. The kiss was inevitable. Clint pressed their mouths together without considering the consequences, he just knew that he’d never get another opportunity like this one. The quiet of the night, Phil’s hand in his, if he didn’t at least try he’d lay awake regretting it.

For the span of three heartbeats Phil didn’t move, Clint’s stomach clenched with the thought that maybe Phil’s door would no longer be open to him. Maybe he had ruined the one solid relationship he’d made at Shield. But before he could pull away and apologize, Phil was deepening the kiss, pressing closer to Clint’s body. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Phil confessed against Clint’s mouth.

Clint squeezed Phil’s hand and wrapped the other one around his waist, “Tell me again?”, he asked, pressing tightly against Phil so he would know just how much of an effect his words had. 

The office was quiet and still and Phil had no problem filling the space with exactly what he thought of Clint, “Loyal. Sweet. Caring.” Phil started to list off adjective, pressing kisses down his jaw, pausing between the words to nip at his throat, “Smart. Tenacious. _Beautiful.” _

Clint was balling his fist in Phil’s neatly pressed shirt, embarrassed because his body seemed to have a mind of its own and was currently humping against Phil’s leg like a dog in heat. His chest felt too tight and his mind felt dizzy. It was all so much at once.

“Coulson… Phil… I _need_…” Clint felt tears rolling down his cheeks, his entire body in overload. Phil’s words had turned him into an overemotional mess. 

But he shouldn’t have worried, he should have trusted Phil to take care of him. Phil pressed a kiss into the corner of Clint’s mouth and just smiled, “I know what you need and you’re doing so well asking. I’m so proud of you, Clint.” Phil worked Clint’s pants down and licked his palm, stroking Clint while staring into his eyes, “Protective. Athletic. Honest. Authentic. Honorable. _Good.”_

That’s all it took before Clint was coming into Phil’s hand, right there in the middle of his office. Phil’s free hand rubbed over his back before reaching for a tissue. “Come home with me, Clint?” Phil made sure to keep his voice even, not wanting it to sound like an order.

There was clarity in Clint’s eyes, the orgasm cutting through the haze of attraction and praise. “Yeah, I’d like that.” and now, thanks to Phil, he was starting to believe he might deserve it as well. 


	8. Day 08 : Masturbation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve loves almost everything about living in Avenger tower. The only things he hates, is also the thing that he loves the most. All the access to Tony Stark.

The best part about living in the tower, more than its proximity to the other Avengers, more than the private chefs, the in-house masseuse and the state-of-the-art gyms, was that he had a place to blow off steam when Tony was being just a little too much. When his needling went from irritating to infuriating. Or, worse, when he’d stumble into the common area after sleeping for twelve hours after a seventy-two hour science bender. All sleep warm and rumbled, hair flattened on one side, pillow crease down his face, tank top tight across his chest, sleep pants slouching low on his hips. 

Those hips.

What Steve wouldn’t give to wrap his hands around the warm skin and run his thumbs over the bit of bone visible between his tank and his pants. He wanted to kiss him on his forehead, hand him a cup of coffee and watch him come awake the same way Steve liked to watch the sunrise. Dark nothingness suddenly illuminated by the brilliance of the rising sun, warmth and color spilling out over everything it touched.

And now he was staring. 

Luckily, Tony was still half asleep so Steve poured him a cup of coffee, didn’t kiss him on the forehead or pull him into his chest, just handed him the mug and made his way back to his own bedroom. He was barely inside the door before he was pulling his shirt off, tossing it towards the hamper, his work out pants quickly meeting the same fate. Steve sprawled across his freshly made bed and started touching himself, just teasing really. One hand brushed across his nipples, while the other bypassed his half hard dick and reached down to cup his balls, rolling them gently in his hand. He loved the heady feeling of his cock filling out on its own, untouched, growing against his flushed skin. 

The fingers carding over his chest sank down lower and lower, brushing over his well-defined abs, fingertips dancing around his navel. He would imagine they were Tony’s hands. The hands that created, the hands that saved the world, exploring his body with the same single-minded intent that Tony had when he stripped apart something just to put it back together – better. Steve wondered what would happen to him when Tony finally stripped him apart. 

Steve was breathing heavier, imagining Tony’s infinitely dark eyes staring down at him, consuming him. How many times had he watched Tony in his workshop wishing to the be the focus of all that attention, all that passion? He twisted on the bed, reaching into the bedside table he pulled out an almost empty container of lube and hesitated before grabbing the dildo he had in there as well. Steve still blushed every time he saw it but the embarrassment paled in comparison to the way it felt to be so full. His toes curled against the mattress just thinking about the way it felt to stretch around the toy, wishing it was Tony pushing inside of him.

He poured the lube onto both hands one wrapping around his cock immediately, stroking his aching erection while the other fell to his opening, pressing a finger in slowly. He still wasn’t used to that first intrusion, it reminded him of all the things he knew he shouldn’t want. Tony pressing a kiss on the inside of his knee, whispering words against his skin to get Steve to relax. He tried not to dwell too much as he added a second finger, he wouldn’t let him think about the way Tony would praise him for taking his fingers, taking his cock. But the images flashed behind his eyelids anyway and he had to squeeze his dick to stop from going off too soon.

Scissoring the digits inside his opening was all the prep he needed, he liked a little pain, pressing the toy into his tight opening. He was trembling, just a few tiny shivers, as he coated the toy in lube and rubbed the head of the dildo over his entrance. His toes were curled against the mattress, his heels pressing down to try to shove his hips up, he was fighting himself.

If Tony were there he’d kneel between Steve’s legs, run his hands over Steve’s thighs, _take a deep breath sweetheart, I know how you like it to hurt, just a little. _He’d watch Steve tease himself before pushing the toy inside, watching the head of the rubber phallus breaching his opening. Tony would hiss like air leaving a deflated balloon, his pupils would dilate and his fingers would reach out to touch the place where the toy disappeared into his lover’s body. He’d run his fingers over the stretched-out opening, feeling the rubber pushing him open, _you can do it love, you can take it, I want to watch you take it all._

Steve took a deep breath, yelping softly as he pushed the toy in further, it burned in a way that went straight to his cock. As if the more his asshole stretched and burned, the more his cock leaked, puddles forming on his abdomen. “For you…” Steve groaned softly, “Tony, for you. I’ll take it all.” His eyes were squeezed shut, face pressed into his shoulder, thinking about nothing but pain in his ass and the pleasure in his cock. 

“Touch me, Tony. I just… I need to feel your hands.” Steve would beg and Tony’s hands would navigate a path over Steve’s calves, down his thighs. His thumbs would brush against the hair at the base of Steve’s cock, he’d press gently on his pelvic mound, watching the way the pressure would make Steve twist against the sheets, _you’re doing so good baby, almost there._

As soon as the toy was seated fully inside of him, Tony would look up at Steve with eyes that sparkled with pride, _I knew you could do it, you know how I love to see you stuffed so full. _Steve’s breath was coming in quicker and quicker; he rocked his hips to get pressure on the base of the toy as he stroked himself, “I did it for you Tony. Love the way you watch me, love the way you touch me. _Tony, I need you…”_

He started stroking himself harder, faster, moaning openly, “_Fuck Tony, no one else, no else can make me feel like you do. Make me come like you do.” _As soon as the words left his mouth he was coming all over himself; up his abs, across his chest, he even felt a warm drop on his jaw. 

Steve didn’t want to take the toy out just yet, instead he just laid across the mattress, dick softening and covered in come. One hand stroked up and down his chest, a self-soothing motion he always seemed to need after intense moments like this one. Finally, he did what he always did after fucking himself brainless. He looked over at the corner of his room, where Tony said there were no cameras, but Steve knew better, looked right where the lens was and said, “I’m all yours Tony.”

Tony took their privacy seriously, but Steve was hoping that, one of these days, he’d get curious and then, just maybe, Tony could make all his fantasies come true.


	9. Day 09 : Nipple Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil really hates nightclubs. Until he meets someone who changes his mind.

Phil hated nightclubs, but it was Tony’s night to pick and so he holed up at the bar and nursed the same beer until it threatened to go warm. His eyes were on the clock, he’d put in exactly one hour and make his excuses. 

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun.” The voice knocked Phil out of his reverie, he expected it to be Tony but instead he found a grinning stranger next to him. His dark blonde hair was damp at the temples and it was obvious he’d been dancing for quite a while. He looked alive in a way Phil hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“I think my night just started to look up.” Sure, it was a line. But it was also the truth and the younger man must have realized that because an hour later they were in the back of a cab headed to Phil’s place.

He didn’t make a habit of one-night stands, Phil actually swore he’d stop when he hit forty. But there was something about this guy; the way he leaned in close, but not too close, respecting Phil’s personal space until he was invited in. Then took full advantage of the invitation. His chest brushing against Phil’s arm, his fingers brushing the inside of Phil’s wrist, it was a coy seduction and Phil was powerless against it. 

As soon as they stepped out into the brisk evening air Clint had pushed him up against the brick of the building and kissed him senseless. It was a delightful surprise after the reserved flirting they’d done earlier. It made Phil that much more eager to be leaving with the younger man.

Phil was prepared to make small talk, he actually was interested in how someone made their living as an archery instructor, and he was very interested in the story behind the purple skinny jeans, but as soon as they were inside Phil’s apartment Clint had peeled his shirt off, revealing a silver barbell through his left nipple and Phil lost all ability to concentrate. He couldn’t drag his eyes away and Clint noticed immediately. He chuckled, his voice low and dark, “See something you like?” Another line. But Phil could see through this one as well. 

Looking closer, realizing it was a tiny, silver arrow. How fitting. “May I?” Phil asked, reaching out but not quite touching. 

Clint’s smirk lit up his whole face, “I really hope so.” Phil brushed over the nub with his thumb, watching Clint’s face to see how it affected him. “You don’t have to be gentle, I-“ but Clint couldn’t finish his sentence because Phil took him at his word and tugged gently on the barbell. 

Phil looked up in just enough time to catch Clint’s mouth curl into a gasp and his eyes roll into the back of his head, “Oh you like that?” He leaned in to brush a kiss against Clint’s stubbled jaw, mumbling against his skin, “You like that a lot, don’t you, sweetheart?” He pinched again, this time twisting the jewelry slightly, feeling Clint’s jaw hang open in a silent whimper before he started nodding his head rapidly. 

“Are they both like this?” Phil asked pinching the other nipple as Clint’s hands reached to curl around Phil’s biceps, squeezing tightly as he nodded once more.

Clint’s words were coming out on gasps of breath, “Really sensitive.” He licked his lips, bowing his chest to get closer to Phil’s hands, “Feels so good.” Clint was used to guys whose idea of foreplay was a half-ass hand job, or who skipped it altogether. So, when Phil lowered his mouth around his piercing, lapping at it before nipping at it with just the barest of pressure, Clint felt his knees go weak. 

“Phil, I…” Clint’s hands reached down to cradle his head, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away, “If you keep this up I’m going to come in my pants.”

All of a sudden Phil’s mouth was gone, Clint looked down and found Phil starting at him in awe, “Really? You can come just from this?”

Clint just shrugged, looking almost a little embarrassed, “Not always but I’ve been turned on for way too long and you’re so hot.” He reached over to run his finger along the patch of chest hair peeking out from Phil’s unbuttoned collar, “Wanted you as soon as I saw you, ignoring everyone at the bar. But I got your attention.” 

“And that should be rewarded, shouldn’t it?” Phil lowered his head once more, flicking his tongue against the unpierced nipple, trying to see if there was a difference in Clint’s reaction. He took the pebbled bud in between his lips, sucking at it with increasing pressure until Clint started making sounds that went straight to Phil’s cock (and probably straight to Phil’s neighbor’s). 

Clint’s hands scrabbled for a grip on Phil’s hair and Phil couldn’t help feeling a little smug, his gorgeous man was at his mercy. He reached down and palmed Clint over his jeans, squeezing twice before Clint’s entire body was racked with shivers and he came in his pants, right there in Phil’s living room. 

“I cannot believe you just did that.” Clint panted, a little disappointed by how quickly he’d finished, he hadn’t come in his pants like that since high school. “Next time I’m we’re definitely getting undressed before either of us comes.”

“Next time, huh?” It was supposed to be a one night stand, but there was something about the archer that had gotten under his skin.

Clint shrugged and offered up a cocky grin, “I really hope so.”


	10. Day 10 : Daddy Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda's had a stressful day and is overjoyed when she comes home to Natasha, in full Daddy mode.
> 
> Tagged for: femslash, daddy kink, dirty talk, REALLY dirty dirty talk, sex toys, strap-ons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the prompt I was most excited about because Phil/Clint Daddy kink is like, my holy grail. How this came to be, I have no idea. Only my second time writing femslash but there's something about Natasha wearing a strap-on in fully Daddy mode that ate at my brain,

“Babe? I’m home.” Wanda called out, kicking the door shut as her hands were full of shopping bags. She threw them all at the table, needing at least one glass of wine before she could unpack them all. “You would not believe the day that I’ve had. My new client-“

Her rant was just gearing up but was immediately cut short by a sharp, “Is that where you’re supposed to leave your things?”

Wanda’s head snapped around, taken aback by Natasha’s tone. That is, until she caught sight of the other woman. 

Natasha was standing in the doorway to their bedroom in just a tight wifebeater, so threadbare Wanda could see both nipples, and a pair of gray boxer-briefs, taunt enough that Wanda could make out the outline of the rubber cock Natasha had strapped on. 

So, it was going to be one of _those _kinds of nights. Wanda’s eyes went big and her voice went a little softer than usual, “Sorry.”

“Sorry what?” Natasha asked with a growl.

She pouted her lower lip just slightly and looked up through her lashes, “Sorry Daddy.”

Natasha was finally close enough to place two fingers under Wanda’s chin and gently tip her head up so they were eye to eye, “There’s my sweet girl. I missed you while you were out shopping.”

“I missed you too, Daddy.” Wanda wrapped her arms around Natasha’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Natasha took control almost immediately, almost fucking Wanda’s mouth with her tongue. God Wanda loved when Natasha got like this. When she got to play with her Daddy.

Natasha’s arms wrapped around Wanda’s waist, pulling their bodies flush. She started grinding her hips against Wanda’s, making sure she felt every inch of the cock. “Do you feel that?” Natasha asked as she kissed her way across Wanda’s jaw, nipping at the hinge before whispering against her ear, “Feel how hard you got your Daddy? 

Wanda loved listening to Natasha when she got like this, her words got downright filthy the longer they played. “Yes, Daddy.” Her right arm slid from around Natasha’s neck and down her body, thumbs grazing over her nipple before palming Natasha’s cock. She looked up through her lashes, making sure to bite her lower lip before asking softly, “Can I help Daddy? I’ll make you feel better.” Wanda’s fingers dipped under Natasha’s underwear band, brushing against her perfectly manicured pubic hair. In the tiniest of sing-song voices Wanda said, “I wanna suck it.”

The way Natasha’s lips opened just slightly was akin to a whimper from anyone else. No matter how many times they did this it still got them both so hot and bothered. Maintaining eye contact Wanda slowly slid to her knees, right there in the entry to the dining room. She peeled back Natasha’s underwear, and the dildo sprang up, she wrapped one hand around the base right above the harness and held it steady as she licked a broad strip up the underside. “Mmmmm.” It tasted like plastic but the look on Natasha’s face was absolutely delicious, “You taste so good Daddy.”

Natasha’s nails scrapped at Wanda’s scalp as she watched her girlfriend suck down her rubber dick. Wanda was a gold-star lesbian, she’d never been on her knees for any man, but you couldn’t tell that the way she sucked Natasha down. She took the moderately sized dildo all the way to the back of her throat, putting so much effort into it that Natasha seriously regretted not being able to actually feel it. She cupped Wanda’s jaw, brushing her thumb across the corner of Wanda’s tightly pulled lips, “Baby girl, don’t hurt yourself.”

She started making shallow thrusts into Wanda’s mouth but stopped abruptly as she realized Wanda’s hand was up under her skirt, “You’re not playing with Daddy’s little pussy, are you?”

Wanda’s hand immediately stopped and her eyes trailed up Natasha’s body, timidly making eye contact as she shook her head, or tried to anyway, mouth filled with her Daddy’s cock. She tried to keep her eyes soft, but this was her favorite part and Natasha was just so fucking sexy in Daddy mode. “I think you are. And if that greedy little hole needs to be filled so badly all you had to do was ask me. You know how much Daddy loves burying his cock inside your tight little body.”

The moan echoed off the walls of the apartment as Wanda released the toy and rose to her feet, “Please Daddy?” She cupped Natasha over her shirt, both thumbs brushing against her had nipples, “I need you inside of me.”

Natasha just smirked and reached up to grab the back of Wanda’s hair, tugging it just like the younger woman loved, “Beg me, baby. Beg your Daddy to bend you over and pound that tight hole.”

Wanda’s legs were shaky, she could feel her own slickness between her legs and she wanted nothing more than for her lover to just _take _her. “**Please Daddy! I need your hard cock inside me. My little pussy is so empty and you’re the only one who can fill me up.**”

The dining room table was filled with bags so she pushed Wanda towards the couch, she bent her over the arm and pushed her skirt up to admire the view. There was a noticeable wet spot on her panties and Natasha couldn’t help but trace over the spot, feeling the heat from her arousal. “You’ve already made quite a mess, haven’t you baby?”

Wanda nodded feverishly and Natasha just chuckled darkly, leaning over to press a kiss to the back of Wanda’s neck. “Don’t worry, baby girl. Daddy’ll take care of you.” Natasha lowered Wanda’s panties to the ground them reached for her cock, holding the base she traced it up along Wanda’s clit, watching the rubber get slick with Wanda’s juices. She teased the head of her cock against hole, watching as Wanda tried to push back, “You don’t like it when Daddy teases, do you?” 

The answer came almost immediately as Wanda quickly shook her head, “Please Daddy. Need it. Need _you._”

“Okay little one, Daddy won’t tease anymore.” Natasha slid into her wet pussy slowly, watching each inch as it sank deeper and deeper. She didn’t stop until her hips were flush with Wanda’s. Natasha’s hands curled around Wanda’s hips, nails biting into her soft flesh, “You feel so good baby girl, you feel so hot and wet around Daddy’s dick.”

One of Natasha’s hands slid lower, fingers toying with Wanda’s clit as Natasha really started to pound into her. Natasha didn’t feel much when they did this, but the sounds Wanda made more than made up for that. There had been nights when Natasha brought herself off just to memories of the way Wanda whimpered and moaned underneath her. 

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart? You gonna come on your Daddy’s cock?” Natasha could tell she was close and she pressed as deeply inside Wanda as she could, feeling her sweet girl shaking apart underneath her. 

“I’m so close Daddy, you feel so…” her words died in her throat as Natasha’s fingers worked her clit in the exact way she loved and her entire body was wracked with her orgasm. “Oh Daddy, oh Da-deeeeee!” she threw her head back then flopped back down over the couch, panting for air. Natasha always fucked her so good. 

Wanda looked back over her shoulder, Natasha’s briefs around her thighs, the leather from the strap-on starkly juxtaposed against her creamy pale skin. “Just gimme a sec Daddy. Then it’s your turn.”

Natasha smoothed Wanda’s skirt down and pressed a kiss to her temple, “Take your time, sweet girl. Daddy’s not going anywhere.” 


	11. Day 11 : Balcony Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The honeymoon might not be where Steve was hoping it'd be, but he's planning to make the best of it.

The bellhop had left their bags stacked neatly inside the door, leaving them to take in all the opulence of their honeymoon suite looking over the Las Vegas strip. Steve shouldn’t have been surprised. When he insisted that they stay close to the west coast for their honeymoon he was thinking a cabin in Oregon or hiking at Mount Rainier. Somewhere beautiful and remote where he could enjoy both nature, and his new husband.

“I thought we agreed on somewhere peaceful. Somewhere private.” Steve should have known nothing with Tony Stark would be simple. And since he’d married the man, nothing would ever be simple for Steve again. 

Tony, ever the showman, spun around in the middle of the grand room, arms out at his side, “Steve. It’s called a _honeymoon _suite. This is where people are meant to spend their honeymoons. Not _hiking._” Tony’s face had curled up into disgust, there was only one acceptable reason for he and his new husband to be working up a sweat and it _wasn’t _the great outdoors. 

If Steve was being honest with himself, he knew Tony would never go for hiking. But he really thought he could tempt his lover away to a remote cabin, some place that made clothing optional. Tony was very fond of the time Steve spent out of his clothes.

Steve was a little exasperated but he was so fond of the glee on his husband’s face that it faded fast. He followed Tony out onto the balcony, stepping up behind him to wrap his arms around the smaller man’s waist. He had to admit the view was breathtaking. Not as awe-inspiring as the Washington wilderness but still stunning. So many colors and lights. There were some things about this time period that he still couldn’t wrap his head around. This high up the noises were nothing more than a dull roar. He pressed a kiss to the nape of Tony’s neck, as Tony remarked, “See peaceful and private. Just like you wanted.”

Chuckling, Steve laid his left hand over Tony’s where it was curled around the railing. He ran his thumb over Tony’s wedding band. That was another thing about this time period that he still couldn’t wrap his head around. That he was able to stand in front of his friends, in front of the world, and pledge to love another man. That first kiss as a married couple, that was worth every second in the ice. “I’ll give you peaceful.” Steve mumbled against Tony’s neck, nipping at the skin there, “But I think we’ll have to go inside for some privacy.”

Tony tried to turn in Steve’s arms but he was bracketed by biceps and Steve’s large frame. When he realized he couldn’t move he just let his head lull to the side, giving Tony more room to work, “Why Mr. Stark, are you trying to seduce me?”

Steve bit down hard enough to make Tony yelp, “I told you I’m not changing my last name Tony.” He brushed his tongue over the two pink marks blooming up on Tony’s skin, “But I _am _trying to seduce you.” Steve pushed his hips against Tony’s ass, grinding slowly as he asked, “Is it working?”

The night narrowed down around them as Tony rocked back against Steve’s half-hard cock, “As soon as I get you sprawled across that giant bed, I’ll show you exactly how well it’s working.” 

Steve’s hands were already at Tony’s belt, tugging it open as he nipped at Tony’s jaw, grinning against the perfectly manicured facial hair, “I thought you said it was it was private out here?” He only gave Tony a moment to process the words before he pushed the slacks down to his ankles, leaving him standing in his dress shirt and … Captain America patterned briefs? He couldn’t help but laugh, “Really Tony?”

Again, Tony tried to turn around but Steve kept his grip on Tony’s hips, “They were my ‘something blue’.” He reached down to lay his hands overtop of Steve’s, “Babe, lemme turn around. I want your mouth.”

Keeping his grip, Steve sank to his knees. He leaned in and bit at the meat of Tony’s ass, right over one of the shields patterned on his underwear, “You’re gonna get it, just be patient.” He reached up to pull down Tony’s briefs, hesitating to make sure this was okay. 

Tony was a bit of an exhibitionist but this was far more public than the two of them had ever risked. But Tony being Tony, he didn’t even hesitate, he just pushed the brief’s down and immediately palmed his cock, “C’mon Steve. There has to be a rule about teasing on your honeymoon.”

“Who’s teasing?” Steve asked, leaning in to run his tongue along the crease of Tony’s ass. 

The other man buckled over the railing, trying to fold himself in half to allow Steve as much access as he could. Steve ran his hands up under Tony’s shirt, touching every inch of skin he could, “You gotta relax, Tony. Just relax and let me take care of you.” His hands slid down the smooth expanse of Tony’s lower back, cupping both cheeks of his ass and he pulled them apart, “I’m gonna get you so wet for me, baby.”

There was something a little thrilling about doing something so intimate outside, even if outside was a balcony overlooking a bustling city. Steve may have been hesitant the first time Tony asked to be eaten out, the last hold over from a time when even thoughts of touching another man would have sent him to church, but now he loved it. He loved how Tony responded, how quickly it unraveled him. A very tiny, private part of Steve loved this because it was something he’d never done for another partner. A piece of himself he had only ever given to Tony.

Steve ran his tongue over Tony’s tight entrance, his own dick firming up even more from the sounds Tony was making. His tongue finally breached the opening and after repeatedly teasing the other man, he started to tongue fuck him in earnest. He could feel his own spit smeared across his mouth as he gripped Tony’s hips, trying to pull him in as close as possible. 

Tony was gasping above him; Steve could tell by the motion of his arm that he was jerking off and that just wouldn’t do. He pulled his mouth away, leaning down to lap at Tony’s balls as he mumbled against the warm skin, “Slow down, sweetheart.” One of his fingers slid over Tony’s split-slick entrance, pushing just the tip of his finger in, “Don’t want you to come until I’m inside of you.” 

It was just a few moments of rummaging before Steve’s slick finger eased into Tony. He knew it wasn’t much of a stretch but he pressed kisses into Tony’s back anyway, crawling up his body as his finger pistoned in and out. Tony kept trying to push back on Steve’s finger the way he’d been pushing back against his face but Steve’s hand on his hip stopped him once more. “Steven Stark, I don’t know if you’re a boy scout or a magician but I love that you can pull lube out of thin air.”

“Steven Stark is never happening, but It _is_ our honeymoon.” Steve released his hold on Tony’s body to lube up another finger, “I’ve had lube with me since we left the house, I was prepared to have you in the limo.”

Tony tried to laugh, “Have me?” but as soon as the words left his lips, two of Steve’s large fingers were inside of him, stretching him open. It was an odd feeling, Steve’s body pressed up behind him, the whole of Las Vegas stretched out before him. It was like being in the middle of everything, while being completely invisible.

Two fingers became three, then Steve was unzipping his own pants, lubing himself up before teasing Tony once more. “Our first time as a married couple,” Steve whispered against his ear, rubbing the head of his wet cock against his hole, “so many people down there but none of them will ever be able to see you like this, to hear the noises you make for me, to feel how tight you are.” He pushed inside slowly, giving Tony’s body time to accommodate the intrusion, feeding off of the guttural moan that was falling from Tony’s lips. 

Steve bent their bodies just slightly, getting the best angle to pound into Tony, trying to hit his prostrate with each thrust, “You. Feel. So. Good.” Each word punctuated with another brutal drive, reveling in the way Tony’s body felt, how different it felt to be doing this as spouses. It shouldn’t really feel any difference, but this was his _husband_, and that thought was just intoxicating, it made him more zealous, wanting to make Tony come harder than he’d ever come before.

Wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist he started stroking him, thumbing the head the way he knew _his husband _liked. Steve purred against Tony’s throat, “Come for me, Mr. Rogers-Stark.” It was really meant as a way to lighten the intensity of the sex but Tony came almost immediately after the words were uttered. He sounded like his orgasm had been punched out of it. Steve had no choice but to follow suit.

They stumbled back into the living room area of their suite, collapsing against the pristine couch in a sticky mess of lube and come. Steve drew Tony to his chest, wishing they’d taken the time to disrobe, wanting as much of his husband’s tanned skin against his as possible. Instead he settled for sneaking his hand up the back of Tony’s shirt, rubbing small circles in his skin. Tony looked up at him with those endless brown eyes that always made Steve feel a little like drowning, in the best way possible, and said, very matter-of-factly, “Stark-Rogers. 

Steve couldn’t help but laugh and just pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead, “Okay Tony. Stark-Rogers it is.

Marriage was all about compromise after all. 


	12. Day 12 : Voyeurism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky occasionally pick up a guy to share for the evening. Bucky always picks because he picks well. And if their latest conquest has a husband that likes to watch, well that's just a bonus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: voyeurism, group sex, slight d/s

The way the bouncer’s hungry eyes took them in was nothing new, he knew how they looked together. Bucky’s dark hair was falling in his eyes, his jeans were impossibly tight and his threadbare Henley was pushed up to his elbows, showing off a sleeve of tattoos, the collar of the shirt was hanging open in a way that dared you to stare at his collarbone and try not to taste it. Steve lost that dare all the time. In contrast, Steve looked clean cut and wholesome, his blonde hair short and combed to the side, his shirt was distractingly tight but it was tucked into pants that actually fit. Steve looked at Bucky with a question in his eyes, he didn’t have to say it, they both knew why they were there. Bucky shook his head and Steve just smiled politely at the bouncer before paying the cover to get it. 

The club was packed, the music was blasting and the night was young. Bucky’s excitement was obvious as his eyes scanned the room. Before he could scamper off, Steve grabbed him by the back of his neck, kissed him so deeply it was really just a tongue fucking and swatted him on his ass, “Bring me back somethin’ pretty Buck.” 

Bucky danced away into the crowd and Steve made his way to the bar. He ordered a beer he planned on nursing for the rest of the night and turned to watch the crowd, picking Bucky out immediately. He moved from partner to partner for almost an hour. Grinding and writhing against men and women, sometimes multiples at the same time. He was like a bee moving from flower to flower, each partner looking bereft when he left. Sometimes Bucky found them immediately, sometimes they went home empty handed, Steve was really hoping for the former.

He sipped at his drink and watch as Bucky danced with the same guy as one song rolled into the next then into the next. Steve couldn’t tell what color his hair was under the lights in the club but he it was short and spikey and from what Steve could see of his body as he rolled it against Bucky’s, he looked built. He watched as Bucky spoke into his ear then he pointed at Steve, Steve raised his beer bottle at the both of them and the stranger nodded with a smile. 

Steve turned around to order two bottles of water for the other men as they made their way towards the bar. Bucky had his arm wrapped around the guy’s waist and they both had a devious little twinkle in their eye. He got a better look at the stranger; sandy hair, scruff, a purple v-neck which was highlighting his shoulders and arms in a very distracting way. Bucky always chose well and tonight was no exception. He handed them both a bottle of water and extended his hand, “I’m Steve.”

“Clint.” He grinned, his excitement matching Bucky’s, then he started looking around and waved someone over. “Steve, Bucky, this is my husband Phil. Phil, this is Steve and Bucky.” Phil was handsome in the middle-aged way, thinning hair but a body that said he took good care of himself. His clothes were casual, belt and shoes expensive but understated, the kind of guy a twenty-year-old might like to call Daddy. He wasn’t Steve’s usual type but he was good-looking and he didn’t seem to mind that Bucky was hanging off his husband. 

Bucky watched all those thoughts roll through Steve’s mind before leaning closer to Steve and saying, so all four of them could hear over the music, “He likes to watch.”

His eyes darted back to the older man, almost expecting him to look embarrassed by the words but he just smirked and shrugged. Well, who was Steve to judge, “Your place or ours?”

As it turned out Phil and Clint only lived a few blocks away, he didn’t say what he did but judging by the size of the house he made a lot of money doing it. As soon as they were in the door Clint reached for Bucky, grabbing the hem of his shirt to pull him in for a kiss. Both Steve and Phil watched in awe, Bucky and Steve had picked up one-nighters before but it was never like this, never so much chemistry. Bucky’s hands had slid down Clint’s sides and were now cupping his ass and grinding up against him. He could see why Phil liked to watch.

“Let’s move this to the bedroom, huh Clint?” Clint pulled himself out of the kiss, which actually looked like it took some effort and just nodded, leading them all towards the back of the house. Clint led them into a room that seemed a little impersonal; a modestly sized bed took up the middle of the room with a large armchair tucked into one corner. Steve couldn’t see a dresser anywhere and that’s when he realized this was just a room for strangers and for some reason that made his already hard dick twitch in his pants. 

“Take good care of my boy.” Steve watched as he settled into the armchair, he couldn’t really understand watching without touching, without being a part of what was going on. But a lot of people wouldn’t understand what he got out of sharing his boyfriend with someone else. 

In the time it took for Phil to get settled and Steve to turn his attention back to Bucky and Clint, they were both shirtless. He watched the muscles ripple though Clint’s broad shoulders, watched Bucky’s hands trail over his back, tattoos dancing over his arm as he moved. Yes, Steve could see the appeal of watching, but he couldn’t watch for more than a few moments before he had to join in.

Steve’s shirt hit the floor as he pressed up behind Clint, grinding his hips into Clint’s ass as he placed wet, openmouthed kisses to the slope of his neck. He felt Clint’s hands reach back and grab his ass, setting the pace for Steve’s movements as he pressed their bodies together. It only took a few minutes of rutting before Steve felt like he was going to lose it. It was all too much. His hands slid between Clint and Bucky’s body, trailing over Clint’s chest until he got to his jeans, tugging them open before stepping back to do the same to himself. 

It wasn’t long before they had all disrobed, Clint had turned to kiss Steve but got distracted by his erection, dark red and curved against his body. Steve knew he was larger than average, something Bucky just couldn’t get enough of, but Clint just marveled at it. He reached down to run a finger along the underside of his heated skin, “I want that inside of me.” Clint surged up to press a heated kiss to Steve’s mouth, pushing their hips together so he could feel Steve’s cock against his own, “C’mon Steve, let’s give my husband a show, huh?”

There was something about the way he said the word _husband,_ as if, in the midst of all of this, that word was somehow sacred. It made his dick leak even harder, knowing Phil was watching, getting off on strangers defiling his husband. “Yeah baby,” he whispered against Clint’s mouth, not sure where the pet name had come from but not wanting to stop and think too hard about it, “I’m gonna fuck that tight little ass so hard.”

“Hey. No fair.” Bucky pouted from just a few steps away, “I wanna play with him too.” 

Clint grinned and pointed to the bedside table, waiting for them to get the supplies out. He stroked his cock lightly, just to get the edge off, locking eyes with Phil as he did so. God it got him so hot when Phil just sat and watched like this.

Steve was still standing by the head of the bed and Clint just shook his head and crawled up onto the bed, on hands and knees across the foot, the best angle for Phil to watch. Steve couldn’t help but wonder how many times Clint had done this, how many times had Phil watched other men fucking his husband. He had to squeeze the base of his cock to keep the night from ending too soon. 

Steve tried to warm the lube up in his hand as he watched Bucky roll on a condom and stand on the opposite side of the bed, the perfect height for him to slide his cock right into Clint’s warm, waiting mouth. Bucky started whimpering immediately, Clint obviously knew what he was doing, he locked eyes with Steve and just moaned, “_Oh. My. God. Stevie. His mouth.”_

Bucky’s hands scratched at Clint’s shoulders, trying to restrain himself from fucking into the wet heat of his mouth. One of Clint’s hands moved to Bucky’s and brought it up to his hair, clearly giving him the go ahead that Bucky had been hoping for. 

With both of Bucky’s hands in Clint’s hair the noises were filling every corner of the room and Steve realized he needed to stop wasting time. He slid one finger inside of Clint, it went easily and it wasn’t long before he was adding another. “Bucky. Baby. His _ass._” He thought he might have heard Phil moan softly but when he looked over the man looked calm and cool, if it weren’t for the rather large bulge in his pants Steve would have feared that he was completely unaffected by the scene in front of him. 

When he was sure Clint was stretched enough, he rolled on a condom and lubed himself, sneaking one more look over at Phil as if the man might put an end to all of it. But he didn’t and Clint pushed back against Steve’s body so he pushed inside. He wasn’t quite as tight as Bucky, which was probably a good thing because Bucky felt like a vice around his cock and he didn’t want to come before his partners. 

Steve tried to keep his thrusts shallow, knowing each movement would push Clint onto Bucky’s cock, but Clint started pushing back and Steve knew what he wanted. Steve started moving more aggressively, holding Clint’s hips like handles, pushing deeper and deeper inside Clint’s body. Every few thrusts he could hear Clint gagging, but he kept moving between the both of them, moaning so loudly that Steve had to think it was mostly a show for Phil. Or maybe Clint really did just love it that rough. Steve snapped his hips again, hoping both were true.

Realizing he wasn’t going to last much longer he reached down for Clint’s erection. He realized the man hadn’t touched himself the entire time. He had to be aching. But as soon as Steve’s hand grazed his cock Clint batted his hand away. Steve didn’t have to be told twice.

Bucky was starting to shake apart and he looked up into Steve’s eyes, maintaining eye contact as he came. Not for the first time he watched the beautiful man come apart and wondered how he’d ever gotten so lucky. Bucky pulled out and slumped onto the bed next to Clint, not even moving to deal with the condom yet, just trying to regain his breath, peppering kisses on Clint’s shoulder and ribs, each place he could reach from his sprawled position.

There were going to be ten little bruises from where Steve held onto Clint’s hips, the night had been intense and fucking into Clint felt like a gift he didn’t want to squander. Finally, he felt his balls tighten and he tried to look down at Bucky but his eyes slipped shut, sinking into the feeling of the orgasm as it flooded his system. 

He tried to keep his entire weight off of Clint as he fell over his body, he nuzzled into the dip in his shoulder blades. “You didn’t finish.” He panted against Clint’s sweat-slick skin, “What can I do?”

“That’s Phil’s job.” Clint offered a lusty smile before turning his head towards Phil, “_Please sir.”_

Phil rose gracefully and started at the side of the bed closest to him, he pressed a kiss into Clint’s forehead, “You did so good sweetheart, you looked incredible.”

There was something in his words that made Steve uncomfortable, like they were intruding on a private moment. Phil walked around the end of the bed, fingers trailing over the light scratch marks on Clint’s shoulders and down the slope of his back. There was reverence in the touches, worship in the words. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone show so much devotion to another person. 

Finally, Phil rounded the other side of the bed, Clint’s ass still up in the air, hole slick and puffy. Phil traced it with his fingers and Clint whimpered softly, squeezing his eyes shut and pushing into Phil’s touches. “He fucked you so good, my sweet boy. You think you’re ready for me?” Clint just nodded frantically, still whimpering so softly Steve wasn’t sure if he even knew he was doing it. 

“You guys are welcome to stay and watch if you’d like.” Phil barely glanced at them, too busy taking in every inch of the whimpering, fucked out mess that was his husband. 

They had tied off their condoms and thrown them in the trash and Steve didn’t even need to look over at Bucky to know they both wanted to watch. Instead, Steve wrapped his arms around the smaller man and held him to his chest on the other side of the bed. There was something strangely erotic about Phil fucking Clint completely dressed while the rest of them were stark naked. There was just something strangely erotic about Phil in general. Steve couldn’t finger out if it was his quiet confidence or the way he exuded competence but Steve was glad they’d found them both.

Steve was watching with baited breath as Phil unbuckled his belt and, holy shit, he did not see _that _coming. Phil was _huge._ Even Bucky gasped as Phil pulled his cock out. It wasn’t the largest dick he’d ever seen, the internet took care of that, but it _was_ the largest dick he’d ever seen in person. 

Whether Phil was aware of their shock Steve couldn’t tell. He didn’t hesitate in his movements, he just lubed up and pressed into Clint in one swift movement. Clint’s jaw fell open but no sounds came out, the way his eyes rolled back into his head made him look like he was in complete ecstasy. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off Clint, the slope of his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to breathe, the way his body was oddly relaxed in juxtaposition to what had to be a feeling of being split open from Phil’s giant cock. 

“He loosened you up for me, didn’t he baby?” The younger man just nodding wildly, his hands balled into the sheets, cock dripping onto the bedspread. 

Phil started to really hammer into Clint, Steve couldn’t stop watching Phil’s fat cock breaching Clint over and over and over again. He couldn’t imagine what kind of stretching Clint would have needed if Steve hadn’t fucked him first. His eyes skated along Clint’s body and realized the younger man was moaning something.

“Please, sir. Please, sir. _Pleasesirpleasesirpleasesir.”_

Clint was getting desperate, pleading for something, Steve wasn’t sure what but god was he beautiful when he begged.

Phil wrapped his arm around Clint’s waist and helped him kneel up on the bed, basically impaling him on Phil’s cock. It made it so Phil could only fuck into him with shallow, tiny movements, but Steve could clearly see Clint was elated. 

Phil was kissing and nipping at his throat before finally, _finally _wrapping his hand around Clint’s aching, neglected erection. Steve watched him almost cry with relief. “All those men, Clint. They can all fuck you. They can fill up all your greedy holes. But only one person can make you come. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Clint’s hands were scrabbling for purchase, he wrapped them around Phil’s body to ball them in his pristine shirt, “Yes, sir.”

“I want to hear you say it, Clint. Be a good boy, by _my _good boy. Tell me Clint, who does this cock belong to?”

Steve’s heart was hammering inside his chest, his arms tightened around Bucky, his cock trying to twitch back to life after having come so soon. He could see that Phil’s touches on Clint’s painful erection were feather light and not enough to give him release. “Yours!” Clint groaned out loudly, echoing in the room, “Your cock, sir. You’re the only one. The only one that can make me come. Please sir. _Please._” Steve had never seen someone so desperate; Clint was almost delirious with arousal.

Clint almost yelped when Phil tightened his hand around his cock, “Come for me, boy.”

The words had barely left his lips before Clint was coming, his entire body shook with his orgasm. He came longer and harder than anyone Steve had ever seen before, it was across the bed, on the carpet and some even hit the wall paper. Clint’s entire body then deflated like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He crumpled into a ball and Phil pulled out of him gently, Steve realizing that he’d been so blindsided by Clint’s orgasm that he’d missed Phil’s. He was oddly disappointed by that. 

Phil tucked him cock away and crawled up on the bed, spooning up behind Clint. He kissed every inch of skin he could reached and let his hands wander across the skin he couldn’t. “You did so well, baby. So, so well.” Phil wrapped his arms around Clint, pulling him as close as he could, “I’m so proud of you.”

Clint was glassy eyed, he looked almost stoned, he just cuddled back into Phil, “Thank you, sir.”

They stayed like that for almost ten minutes, Steve wasn’t sure what he should do. He felt like moving would break the moment they were sharing but it was obvious that the night was winding down. Finally, Clint blinked his eyes open and smiled shyly at Steve and Bucky, “He doesn’t normally let people stay for that last part. I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” Steve questioned dumbly, as if repeating Clint’s words would help clear his head.

“That was, _the hottest_ thing, I’ve ever seen.” Bucky blurted out, obviously a little dumbstruck as well.

Clint just grinned, “Cool.” He looked over his shoulder at Phil, then back at the other men, “Maybe you should leave your number then?”

Steve just grinned, “Absolutely.”


	13. Day 13 : Hair Pulling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days were better than others. Some days Tony wore his scars like a badge of honor. Some days he couldn't stand to look at them. Luckily for him, his boyfriend knows just what to do on days like that.

Some days were better than others. Some days Tony wore his scars like a badge of honor. Proof that he survived. Proof that brains would always conquer brawn.

But other days.

Other days Tony didn’t want to think about all the marred skin around the arc reactor. Didn’t even want to think about the _arc reactor. _Because, despite it being a work of art, it was still a _machine _embedded in his flesh. Foreign and hideous. 

Those were the days when Steve would press up behind him, he’d kiss him softly on the back of his neck and offer up as much comfort as he knew how. 

The first time he’d tried to slip his hands under Tony’s shirt, but the smaller man twisted out of his grip, eyes flaming with anger, trying to burn away the fear that was clear as day. Steve had let him get away with that and Tony hadn’t left his workshop for three days.

Now Steve knew better.

Now when Tony pull on a hoodie over the two shirts he was already wearing and shuffle passed the mirror without a second glace Steve knew what to do. 

He wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist and lead him into their bathroom. Sometimes it was more dragging than leading, but he’d get him in front of the floor to ceiling mirrors and strip him bare. His fingers would thread through the back of Tony’s hair and he’d jerk his head up, “Look Tony, _look.”_

And Tony’s eyes would slowly rise, taking in bony feet and pale legs, the smattering of hair on his tights, his limp cock and tone stomach. He would try to glaze over his chest but Steve would yank, _hard. _“Look.” He would growl.

Steve’s free hand would trail over the raised line around the arc reactor, would trace around the ring of metal set into Tony’s flesh. “So beautiful.” He’d whisper reverently, hand tugging on Tony’s hair, forcing him to look. 

Sometimes minutes passed, sometimes it was immediate, but Tony’s hand would join Steve’s and they’d map out the web of scars together. Tony would relax back into Steve’s body, feeling safe inside his arms in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. 

Tony watched as Steve’s hand fell from his chest to his soft cock, running his fingers over it gently. “You’re perfect Tony. And the fact hat you let me touch you like this,” Steve took a deep breath, trying to get his words in order, “it’s a privilege.”

Steve’s hold on his hair never loosened, instead he used it to position Tony’s head exactly where he wanted it. Kisses rained down on Tony’s neck, up his throat, along his jaw to his mouth, Steve jerking his head around, putting him right where he wanted him. It took a couple nights like this before he realized that the hair pulling was doing just as much for Tony’s dick as Steve’s hand was.

He kept fondling Tony to hardness, whispering sweet words against his skin, reassuring him that he was beautiful and perfect and wonderful and _loved. _“Watch,” Steve commanded, using the hand lotion next to the sink to start stroking Tony’s dick. The chill from the lotion made Tony gasp, his eyes slid shut but Steve tightened his grip on his hair, “_Watch.”_

“I love those scars.” Steve confessed, lips brushing against Tony’s skin as he spoke. “They say you survived; they say you’re alive.” Steve’s thumb teased the slit before twisting his hand the way that made Tony’s knees go weak, “You came home to me. Despite everything. Despite terrorists. Despite tragedy.”

The pressure increased on both Tony’s hair, and his cock, “I made it though the ice, I survived seventy years so I could be here with you, right now. And I’d do it again. For you.” 

Steve’s plan wasn’t an all-out cure, it didn’t lift Tony out of his fog of self-loathing all at once, but each word chipped away at his doubt and insecurity. By the time his orgasm washed over him, he felt nothing but an intense sensation of being completely, hopelessly, endlessly loved. So much so that his chest stopped feeling like a mess of scars and wires, and felt more something worthy of being cherished.

And when Steve’s stared down into his eyes, so did he.


	14. Day 14 : Public/Semi-Public Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil's been away too long and when Clint picks him up at the airport he takes full advantage of a dark corner of the parking garage.
> 
> Tags: public/semi-public sex, sex toys, sex in car, unsafe sex, dirty talk

Phil’s plane was late. Again. More? Whatever.

Denver could fuck right off, the weather kept pushing back Phil’s departure time but Clint was too excited to check the flight status so he’d been pacing around the airport for an hour and a half. If he didn’t settle down, he was bound to get arrested.

And wouldn’t that just be the perfect way to end the day.

He’d since loaded the airline ap and got an alert that Phil had finally, _finally _landed. He tried to play it cool but as soon as his travel weary lover passed security Clint smiled so wide it almost hurt. He wrapped his arms around Phil, inhaling his scent; recycled air and stale peanuts but somehow still familiar. God, he loved this man. 

Walking towards baggage claim he let their fingers brush together, they weren’t much for PDA, but Clint was _aching _to touch Phil. Two weeks apart was too long. 

Fortunately for Clint, Phil’s bag came out quickly and he led them towards the parking garage, pleased that the far corner Clint had parked in was still dark and vacant. He pushed Phil up against the SUV and plundered his mouth immediately, kiss saying everything he wasn’t able to say inside the building. Phil looked a bit surprised but melted into Clint’s hold, kissing back with just as much zeal.

“Clint.” Phil mumbled softly, trying to pull away from the kiss, “Let’s get home where we can do this properly.”

Phil’s hands had settled on Clint’s hips but Clint grabbed one and slid it around to cup his ass, “How about we do it right here?” 

He rocked his erection up against Phil’s body and pushed Phil’s hand right where he wanted it. Right against the end of the plug he’d been wearing for three hours (fucking Denver). Clint watched as Phil’s eyes went wide, lips trying to form a question but nothing came. Clint had been planning on surprising Phil when they got home but he’d been on edge for _so long. _“Please Phil?” he whispered into the older man’s throat, “Need you inside’a me so bad.”

Phil pulled back to look down at Clint’s expression, he’d blamed that tight, restless look in his eyes on waiting around the airport but now he could see it for what it really was, barely restrained lust. “Oh sweetheart, what have you done? Gotten yourself all wound up, haven’t you?”

Biting his lower lip, Clint just nodded. He tried the puppy dog eyes but Phil was suspiciously immune (Phil’s superpower?). “I have lube in the glove compartment.” He whispered, continuing to rut against Phil, “You wouldn’t even have to stretch me. Just push right in and fill me up.” He knew what dirty talk did to Phil, he might be immune to Clint’s eyes, but not to his filthy mouth. He leaned up into his ear, lips brushing against his skin, “You can come inside’a me and you’ll know that you’re leaking out of me the whole way home and there’s nothing I can do about it but sit in your mess.”

They way Phil’s hand tightened on his hip told Clint everything he needed to know. He reached in and started the car, grabbing the lube from the front before scrabbling into the backseat. He was on his knees and already had his pants open, hastily trying to push them down over his ass. Phil slid in behind him but sat like a passenger, he reached over to rub Clint’s back, gentle in both movements and words as he tried to calm Clint like a skittish horse, “Shhh, sweetheart, I love how much you want me but you need to slow down.”

Clint’s pants were around his thighs but his briefs were still in place. Phil pressed his thumb against the base of the toy, rocking it in his entrance, “So hot baby, that you opened yourself up, got yourself ready for me.” Slowly he pulled Clint’s brief’s down, thumb tracing around the base again, this time brushing against warm skin, “Can you relax for me love?” He waited until Clint had taken a deep breath and then nodded, the plug slipped out with a squelching noise that went straight to Phil’s dick.

Phil dropped the plug into an empty grocery store bag and uncapped the lube, tracing Clint’s stretched out hole with awe. Clint was making the most delicious noises, trying to push back against Phil’s hand, “I feel so empty now, Phil. Please.” 

The garage was silent, so the sound of Clint’s whimpers and moans were like gunshots. So was the sound of Phil scrambling to get his own pants down. He leaned forward and pulled the lever on the passenger seat, pushing it forward to create more room. Instead of kneeling up behind Clint he sat back down, bare ass against the leather seats. Slicking up his cock he held it with one hand and tugged on Clint’s hip with the other, “I know you want it, but you have to come here and take it.”

Clint looked over his shoulder and groaned at the sight, Phil still in his shirt and tie, his pants around his thighs with his cock in his hand, glistening and hard and all for him. He shuffled back as best he could, legs caught in his jeans but he would not be detoured. He planted his feet on the floorboard and lifted his body up, trusting Phil to guide him exactly where he needed to go. 

“I got you, Clint.” Phil was holding his cock at the base and the pressure of Clint’s entire weight pressing down on his dick was almost too much. Clint had ridden him before, but never like this, never in public where anyone could see. When Clint finally seated himself, Phil pressed his forehead to the back of that muscular back that he loved so much, “Just go slow, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last.” 

Clint started rocking against him and it was _incredible. _

Mostly.

The SUV was large but it wasn’t designed for this. Clint slumped forward over as much of the passenger seat as he could reach and moved his hips slowly against Phil, relishing each movement as it happened. Clint was huffing and purring and Phil would have been completely enamored if he weren’t trying to keep from coming before his partner.

He wrapped his slick hand around Clint’s dick and maybe it was the fact that they were in a parking garage, or maybe it was just because Clint had missed him, but he came after only a few strokes.

Phil was quick to follow.

Phil peppered Clint’s jaw with kisses as the younger man eased off of his softening dick. They were both panting and the car was ridiculously fogged despite the air conditioner running, “That was quite a welcome home.” 

“You were quite missed.” Clint teased back, winking at Phil as he looked around the car, spotting what he was looking for in the open glove compartment, “Can you hand me those napkins?”

Phil’s grin was just a touch wicked as he shook his head, “Sorry babe.” He reached over to help Clint ease his briefs up, “But you promised me a mess when we get home.” Leaning in to press a kiss to Clint’s confused lips he promised against them, “I’m looking forward to cleaning you up.”


	15. Day 15 : Mutual Masturbation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony falls into lust at first sight with a stripper announced only as 'Major Abs'. Ridiculous military theme aside Tony can't look away and ends up buying a private dance, which leads to a lot more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, real life is terrible but smut is great! This is longer than most of the other pieces to make up for the wait. 
> 
> Also, special thanks to Cpwatcher for being the best cheerleader a gal could ask for!

Tony didn’t take much seriously in life. It was far too short not to enjoy. Which is why, when he found out his best friend was getting married, he quickly declared himself Man of Honor, and vowed to throw Pepper a bachelorette party she’d never forget. For some reason Pepper utterly detested the idea of an all-male strip club but compromises were made. Tony rented an island for her honeymoon and Pepper agreed to two hours at “Bare Assets”. 

It was even trashier than the name would imply; the music was loud, the lighting was low and the guys wore the skimpiest thongs Tony had ever seen. He gave Pepper and her friends each fifty dollars in ones and told them to find seats at the stage while Tony saw to their drinks. 

Tony was perched up at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention when a rock version of the Star Spangled Banner started playing. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the DJ announced, “Coming to the stage is Major Abs, c’mon ladies and gents, let’s thank him for his service!” Tony took back every ounce of skepticism the puns had inspired when he laid eyes on the dancer. He was tall and blonde, in the tightest shirt Tony had ever seen, the word “Army” across that broad chest, tiny matching shorts and combat boots. He should have looked ridiculous but it worked. And it was working for Tony.

The dancer started doing body rolls to the mash up of overly patriotic country music set to rock tones. He was running his hands down over his shirt and when he reached the hem Tony found out where he got the stage name. The guy’s six pack made every six pack Tony’d ever seen pale in comparison. Actually, there was no comparison. He was literally a writhing work of art. Tony had seen marble statues with less definition.

“What’ll you have?”

The words had to be yelled at him twice before he realized the bartender had made his way down to Tony’s end of the bar. Pulling his eyes away from the man on the stage was so much harder than it should have been. Tony had been to strip clubs all over the world, a smooth chest and a six pack shouldn’t have been enough to completely derail all higher brain functions.

“Uh…” Tony looked between the stage and the bartender twice before remembering he was supposed to be ordering drinks for Pepper and her friends, “Whatever’s pink and fruity for the drooling ladies to the left of the stage.”

The bartender just smirked, “And for the drooling man at the bar? A _stiff _drink? Or maybe you’d prefer a private dance?”

Which is how Tony found himself in a backroom, sitting on the world’s most uncomfortable chair waiting for the man of his dreams to waltz through the door and blow his mind.

It felt like an eternity, although in reality it was the span of two hip hop songs, before Major Abs himself walked into the small room. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny gold shorts that showed off, not only the breadth of his thighs but highlighted his package which Tony assumed had to be stuffed because, holy fuck, his dick looked huge. Tony had never considered himself a size queen but the way the light shifted over the stripper’s cock made his mouth water.

“Hi there.”

Tony shook himself out of his reverie and finally looked up at his face, which was just as perfect as the rest of him. His voice was softer than Tony thought it would be, part of him expected the guy to start barking orders like some kind of drill sergeant, he wasn’t sure how in character these guys stayed. “Hi.” Tony licked his lips, unable to stop eyeing the dancer like a starving man looking at a hot meal. “What’s your name?”

The man moved closer, Tony would swear that the lighting in the room was specifically designed to isolate each muscle group in turn, it was mesmerizing to watch him make his way across the room, “I’m Steve. What would you like me to call you?” 

Tony tried to keep his eyes on the man’s face, it was only polite while they were talking. His lips were red and full and Tony wondered if he’d put something on them or if they were naturally so distracting. He wondered what they’d taste like. “What would I like you to call me?” Tony asked, confused, “My name is Tony.”

Before he could finish getting the words out of his mouth he watched as Steve closed the distance, making a show of throwing one of those massive thighs over Tony’s body, settling his weight on Tony’s lap. He reached for the back of the chair, holding onto it over each one of Tony’s shoulders, “Hi Tony.”

Up close Tony had no problem looking the blonde man right in his eyes. They were crystal blue and bottomless. Tony had fallen right into them and didn’t mind one bit if he drowned. Tony wondered distantly if made he’d been drugged. He’d been around beautiful people before. Bedded both men and women who had been on magazine covers and the catwalk in Milan. But there was something about this man that short circuited his brain. In fact, he hadn’t realized that he hadn’t replied until Steve spoke again. “You know the rules, right? You just sit there and enjoy yourself. No touching. If you touch, I have to call Thor and then he kicks you out. But you’ll be good, right?”

Tony just nodded and curled his hands around the seat of the chair. 

Steve grinned (and if Tony thought his eyes were something, they were nothing compared to the power of that perfectly white smile, one corner of his mouth turned up in a playful smirk) and ran his hands through Tony’s hair, leaning in to whisper against his ear, “Good boy.”

Tony wasn’t much into power dynamics, and normally someone calling him that would have been annoying bordering on patronizing, but when Steve did it… Tony squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on not coming in his pants. The way he could feel Steve’s body heat inches from his hard dick wasn’t helping things.

Steve reached for a remote on the table next to Tony, every muscle in his arm strained in a way that was purely for show but Tony was appreciating every minute of it. A hip-hop song with a deep bass beat started playing and Steve used his grip on the back of Tony’s hair to start rolling his hips against Tony’s lap. He moved his body up towards Tony’s with each bass note until Tony could feel Steve’s bulge against his stomach and Steve’s ass against his erection. He was going to come in his pants like a teenager, he just knew it.

The song’s beat increased and right when Tony thought he just wouldn’t be able to take anymore Steve pulled back, standing up slowly so Tony could watch the way his body moved. He stood between Tony’s legs and moved to the music, thumbs in the waistband of his shorts. He pulled the waistband down to display neatly trimmed pubic hair and just a hint of dick neck. 

He squeezed his hands on the chair, wanting desperately to reach out and touch. He wanted to lick a strip up those washboard abs, bite his collarbone then _plunder_ his mouth. He audibly whimpered when Steve pulled down his shorts, only mildly disappointed when the man revealed a thong instead of his dick. Tony wanted to see if his cock was really as big as those shorts made it out to be. He looked half hard in that patriotic thong, and wasn’t that an intoxicating thought, that Steve was aroused by dancing for Tony. Steve turned around and displayed an almost bare ass, then bent at the waist to pull the shorts off around his boots, a tiny string visible between his cheeks, Tony just barely restrained himself from sticking his face right into Steve’s ass. 

“_Fuck_.” he didn’t say the word as much as it was punched out of him when Steve sat back in his lap, this time facing away from Tony so he could rock the bare cheeks of his ass against Tony’s erection where it was pinned and leaking in his pants. Steven reached over his head to grab the back of the chair again, his massive bicep in Tony’s face, easily within reach for tasting. 

“Language, Tony.” Steve taunted, Tony could hear the smile in his words, “I thought you were going to be a good boy.”

That was it. Tony’s brain officially checked out. His dick was connected directly to his brain, it was the only reason he could see that the next words out of his mouth were, “How much.”

Steve stilled in his lap, tension running through all those beautiful muscles, “Careful Tony. A guy might get the wrong idea and I’d hate to see you get banned from the club.” 

“No.” Tony protested, trying to find the words to articulate that he didn’t think Steve was a prostitute, but all that came out was, “I just mean, I won’t touch, but I’ll pay whatever you want.”

And that was the wrong thing to say before Steve was standing up and Tony’s hands flew up, wanting to pull Steve back down into his lap but stopping himself before he really did get kicked out. “Not to touch.” Tony scrambled to explain. “I know you’re just trying to make a living.” Tony took a deep breath, trying to get his brain back online. “I’ve got about $1200 in my wallet.” Steve froze, hovering over Tony’s lap, the fact that Tony hadn’t touched, although he’d clearly wanted to, combined with that dollar amount gave him pause, “I’ll give you everything I have on me now to sit in that chair and jerk off.” Tony’s eyes squeezed shut, his self-loathing at an all-time high. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, “We both jerk off, I never touch you, you make some money. Win, win.”

Steve looked over at the empty chair and Tony could see him weighting the decision. Normally he would have never considered it, but Tony was hot and after basically dry humping him Steve was going to jerk off anyway, so why not make some money doing it. And that amount of money, fuck, that was all his monthly bills and then some. Just for watching him jerk off. The fact that the other man was willing to pay that much money just to watch was making Steve’s dick firm up in his thong. He wouldn’t have gotten into stripping if he didn’t enjoy being watched.

He pulled the extra chair from the corner of the room to right in front of Tony, close enough that their knees almost touched. He’d found a bottle of baby oil, normally what they’d use to rub down with before they went on stage, “Okay Tony. You know the rules.” He uncapped the baby oil and drizzled some on his chest, rubbing it over all the hard lines of his chest as Tony watched, “No touching. And don’t make a mess.” He winked at Tony, fingers trailing over his body and around his navel. Steve had never reacted so much to someone’s heated gaze; he was used to being looked at, watched, desired and envied. But it was like Tony wanted to devour him whole and that look was going straight to his cock. 

Tony’s eyes didn’t know where to look first; the way Steve was biting his lower lip, the path of the baby oil down his pecs to pool between his abs, or the American flag that was straining across his growing erection. The fact that Steve was getting off on this, only Tony watching him, was only making him harder, blood rushing to his dick so fast it was making his head swim. He reached down and massaged his cock over his pants, he was trying to get himself together, trying to make this last.

Tony prayed that the music would drown out the noise that escaped his lips when Steve slowly exposed his cock but judging by the smirk on Steve’s face, it hadn’t. He lowered the briefs to just expose his shiny cock head, just a few drops of moisture clinging to his darkening skin. Tony’s toes curled in his shoes, he wanted to drop to his knees and lick his cock clean. Wanted to worship his dick as Steve fed it to him inch by inch. But that wasn’t what he’d paid for and he reminded himself to be grateful he got to see anything at all.

Steve ran his thumb over the head of his cock, his lips parting slightly as he huffed out a small whimper, “_Oh, Tony_.” Tony’s eyes shot open wide; he was _not _expecting that. Not expecting his name to tumble out of Steve’s mouth and judging by the surprise on Steve’s face, he wasn’t either. “Do you see what you’re doing to me?” he lowered the briefs further, exposing the thick shaft. Steve’s hand circled around his erection, keeping his grip loose, determined to put on a $1200 show for the other man.

“God, you’re so…” Steve had heard that sentence finished a thousand different ways; _hot, sexy, slutty, _but when Tony finished with, “_beautiful”_ Steve was a little caught off guard. He stared into Tony’s eyes, his pupils blown out from arousal, but Steve could still make out the deep brown of his iris. It felt a little like he was trapped by the intensity there. Like he was both caged and free falling. It was a heady feeling.

Steve poured more baby oil into his hand then handed the bottle over to Tony, he wasn’t sure what came over him but he made sure to brush his fingers against Tony’s, watching the way the smaller man sucked in a stuttering breath. “Thought I was gonna see you too.”

Tony did not need to be told twice. He fumbled open his pants, trying to hold onto the baby oil with one hand while he worked his belt open with the other. In the back of his mind he told himself he should feel a bit more shame pulling his hard, leaking cock out of his pants in the back room of a seedy strip club but all he could think was how much he wanted to see every inch of the muscular man in front of him before he came. He wasn’t as massive as Steve, but he was on the larger size of average, and judging by the way Steve’s grip tightened on his dick, he was more than enjoying what Tony had on display. 

The music was still playing in the background but they were close enough to hear the slip and slide of their hands as they both struggled to maintain composure. Neither of them quite ready for it to be over just yet. “More?” Tony moaned, middle finger tracing over the underside of his cock head, right at the spot that never failed to make his knees go weak. “Take ‘em off?” he was all but begging and didn’t care at all.

Steve pushed his thong down his thighs, kicking them off when they pooled around his feet. He rolled his balls in his hands, watching Tony watching him. “Is this what you wanted to see?” he bit his lower lip and his eyes fluttered shut as he squeezed his balls, just on this side of painful, feeling the need to come receding just enough to keep going.

Tony didn’t know baseball stats but he started reciting the Fibonacci sequence in his head, _zero plus one is one, one plus one is two, two plus one is three, three plus two is five… _He didn’t want to come yet, he never wanted to come. He wanted to exist in this moment with this gorgeous man for the rest of eternity. Tony’s breaths were becoming ragged, he could feel himself sweating through his clothes, it wasn’t his finest hour but he’d never been so desperate for another person before. He watched Steve sink down in the chair, pressing his leg against Tony’s. Tony was aching for skin on skin contact but he’d take what he could get. The fact that Steve initiated it was gift enough. 

“No, I don’t think it was.” Before Tony’s brain could process Steve’s words, he realized the other reason Steve had slid down in the chair. The way he was sitting exposed his hole and his hand dropped to his balls to trace around his opening. “Is this what you wanted, Tony? You want to see every inch of me?” There was just the smallest amount of baby oil on his finger when he pressed it inside of himself. It wasn’t more than a knuckle but it was enough to make his dick jerk in his hand, “You wanna know that I’m full and wishing it were you?”

It was a line, Tony knew it was a line, but before he realized what was happening, he was coming so hard it actually hurt, just a little and in the best way possible. He was grateful for the noises Steve was making, the strangled moan that told him Steve was coming, he would have been livid with himself if he missed it. Steve’s finger pushed a little further inside his hole before his whole body curled forward, orgasm crashing through his body like a freight train. Come splattered up his chest and Tony didn’t care that it mixed with the baby oil, he still wanted to lick him clean.

They both sat in silence for a few moments, catching their breath and gathering their wits. “That was…” Tony didn’t have a word for what it was. The single hottest sexual experience of his life and they hadn’t even touched each other.

Steve just nodded dumbly, he knew they needed to get moving, they’d already been in the room way too long. But he wasn’t sure his legs were working quite yet and the thought of going back out there to those waiting eyes just didn’t appeal. He was trying to figure out how much was left of his shift when Tony asked, “Do you have a passport?”

The non-sequitur was even stranger because Tony hadn’t moved at all, he still had his spent cock out, come splattered across his hips and on both hands. He looked completely debauched and it really shouldn’t have been doing all kinds of things to Steve’s body. “Like for traveling?” he wasn’t sure what else Tony could have meant but it was so out of left field, “No. I don’t travel much.”

Tony looked a little disappointed, which was actually kind of more of an adorable pout than anything else. “Oh.” Tony reached for a box of baby wiped tucked under the table, thank god the club was equipped for these kinds of things, “I want to take you to Italy.” 

He was trying to hand the box of wipes to Steve but he wasn’t moving, still stuck on Tony’s words. Surely, he had misheard the other man, “Uhhh… what?”

When Steve failed to grab the box Tony finally looked up at him, “There is this statue garden in a small village a few hours outside of Rome, they look like they could have been modeled after you. I’d like to take you. How long do you think it takes to get a passport?”

If it had been any other customer Steve would have assumed that it was a line, or more so, that Tony was trying to buy him off, or impress him with his wealth. But the way Tony spoke, it sounded so effortless, like this was something he did all the time and it was less about impressing Steve than it was about sharing something with him. “Is that your way of asking me out?” Steve finally took the box of wipes and started cleaning himself up, “How about we start with dinner first.”

Steve wasn’t sure who was more surprised by his answer, he was breaking a lot of his own rules it seemed. Tony though, gave Steve a cocky grin, and if Steve hadn’t just seen the vulnerability in his eyes, he would have believed it, “There’s a diner around the corner, I’ll meet you after your shift?”

“It’s a date.”


	16. Day 16 : Cock-Warming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's had a bad day, Phil had an idea to make it better. And Sitwell is completely obvilious to it all.
> 
> Tags: Cock-warming, accidental exhibitionism, oral sex, swallowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gone for almost a week so here are two in one day! Cock-warming is a favorite of mine so this chapter was lots of fun to write. 
> 
> Also, I don't know about the bear population in Russia. I wrote this very quickly and didn't have time to stop and do research.

Achieving level seven status was a privilege and Phil never forgot that. But he also never realized how much more paperwork he’d face on a daily basis. He looked from his watch to his inbox and back again. This was getting ridiculous, surely not every level seven ended up with so many reports to review. There’d be no one left to actually plan and carry out missions. Phil was thinking about sending Fury a strongly worded memo, which would probably sit unread in the Director’s inbox, but would make him feel a little better. Before Phil could figure out if that would just be a colossal waste of time, someone knocked on his door. Grateful for the distraction he yelled for them to come in, quickly tucking away any top-secret documents.

Phil smiled as soon as he saw who it was, his smile fell a little when he saw the look on his lover’s face. “Clint? Are you okay?”

He was wearing a Shield issue sweat suit at least two sizes too big, his hands were curled into the cuffs and he looked so much younger than his twenty-seven years. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He ran his hands through his damp hair and looked back up at Phil, “Really.” He brought his cuff to his mouth and started chewing on it, a habit Phil was trying to break him of, but instead of bringing it up he let Clint puzzle through his words. After a few long moments of silence, he spoke again, “I just… Sitwell asked for my opinion on the Moscow op but then completely disregarded everything I said. Why even ask me? And now I can’t stop thinking about it and the dozens of ways that I could have improved that op and maybe saved lives but he just asked then brushed me off and I hate…” He stopped himself and took a deep breath, finally meeting Phil’s eyes again, “Now I can’t turn my head off.” He bit his lower lip and lowered his eyes, asking softly, “Please?”

“Oh, sweet boy.” Phil’s words were almost a whisper, “I may make you beg sometimes, but never for that.” He got up and walked around his desk, taking a knee in front of Clint he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the younger man’s forehead, “Do you want to kneel for me?”

Clint squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head, sometimes it was so difficult for him to ask for. “Get your pillow, I have a little work left to do here then we’ll go home.”

Phil settled back into his desk chair and watched as Clint grabbed his deep purple pillow and let it fall next to Phil’s chair, “That might not be enough tonight, huh?”

Clint visibly relaxed at those words, trusting Phil to know what Clint himself couldn’t articulate, that he needed something more tonight. Something to take him out of his head, to that place where everything got quiet and his brain stopped spinning. 

“I have an idea.” He picked up Clint’s pillow and put it under his desk, it was a large, solid oak piece that had more than enough room in the foot well for his younger lover. “This is something I’ve wanted to do with you for a long time.” He reached for Clint’s hands and pulled him in for a kiss, then directed him under the desk, “Are you okay kneeling in there.”

Clint figured it should have scared him, being boxed in, trapped under Phil’s desk, his handler’s body blocking his exit, but instead it made him feel safe, secure. “Yes’sir.” He mumbled, chewing on his sleeve, finding himself relaxing into the darkness, the only light coming in around Phil’s legs.

Phil reached down and gently tugged Clint’s hand away from his mouth, before unzipping his slacks and pulling his soft cock out of his pants. He heard Clint’s soft gasp, finally realizing Phil’s plan. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.” Phil pushed his chair closer to Clint then reached for the back of his head, leading it to down to his dick, “I don’t want you to suck on it. Just keep it in your mouth, can you do that for me?” Clint nodded around Phil’s dick and it started to firm up in his mouth, it was killing Phil not to thrust into that hot, wet heat until he was hard and Clint was gagging. But that wasn’t what this was about. He carded his hand through Clint’s hair one last time, “Get comfortable, you’re going to be down there for a while.”

Clint shifted on his knees until his chest was pressed up against Phil’s chair between his spread legs. He wrapped his arms around each of Phil’s leg, holding him close as he laid his head against Phil’s thigh, gently suckling at Phil’s cock, enjoying the weight in his mouth, the taste of Phil on his tongue. It pulled him into that peaceful place so much faster than just kneeling ever had. He felt safe, cared for, even cherished. The fact that Phil would let him do this… The fact that Phil had been _thinking _about doing this made Clint’s dick twitch a little in his pants. But as soon as that feeling came, it faded just as fast. This wasn’t about sex; this was about something so much deeper that his chest _ached. _

Clint was almost dozing; his eyes had fallen shut as soon as he’d gotten into position. He felt drool around his lips but it didn’t faze him, he concentrated on the sounds of Phil’s computer, of the scratching of his pen on a legal pad, of the way his cock had gone completely soft and was just sitting on his tongue. It had been a long time since Clint had done any drugs but he never remembered feeling quite as high as he did at that moment.

Until a knock at Phil’s door.

His entire body went tense and he started to move away from Phil’s groin when he felt a hand at the back of his head and heard Phil ask softly, “Did I tell you we were finished?” Clint shook his head slightly, making sure to keep Phil in his mouth. “Do you want to be finished?” That question was even easier to answer, he shook his head again, firmer this time. “Then be a good boy and keep my cock warm, Clint.”

The whimper really couldn’t be avoided, Phil knew what words like that did to Clint.

“Come in.” Phil called out, hand petting at Clint’s hair under the guise of adjusting his chair, “Sitwell,” he felt Clint tense up again, but Phil wouldn’t let that happen, instead he firmly pushed Clint’s head a little further into his lap before moving his hand back up to his keyboard, “what can I do for you?” 

Clint heard Sitwell settle into one of the chairs across from Phil’s desk, he was grateful the large desk went all the way to the floor. “It’s the Moscow op.” And didn’t that just bring Clint right down from the cloud he’d been floating on. “Do you think it’d be better to come in from the north? Barton said something about black bears and I couldn’t tell if he was serious or if he was messing with me.”

Phil leaned back in his chair as if to think and rested his hand on his thigh, before sliding it to the back of Clint’s head. He waited until Sitwell was looking down at the file before pushing on his head then letting go, pushing, then letting go, until Clint got the picture and started to suck in earnest. “Barton has quite a mouth on him,” Phil said with a playful smile, his dick hardening in Clint’s mouth, “but if you’re asking him about an op, about the safety of other agents, he wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

The first night Clint had dropped to his knees for Phil was a night he’d never forget. He’d learned so much about himself in those first few months, all the things he never knew he liked, never knew he craved. And here was a new one that blindsided him. Was it considered exhibitionism if the third-party didn’t know what was going on? All he knew was having a calm, rational conversation with one of his best friends, while his lover was secretly tucked away, sucking his dick, was really working for him.

“You’re right. I should have taken him more seriously. But black bears? In Russia? Shouldn’t there be polar bears that far north?” Sitwell closed the folder and sighed, “I’m going to have to find him and apologize. You know how much I hate to apologize.”

Phil squeezed his legs around Clint’s body and the younger man took it as a challenge. He started deep throating him as best he could without too much noise, Phil was thankful for the white noise machine otherwise there was no way Sitwell wouldn’t have figured out what was going on. “Surprise him with a coffee tomorrow, you won’t even have to apologize.”

Sitwell collected his file and waved at Phil, “The Hawkeye Whisperer, I hope that’s on your resume.”

As soon as the door shut Phil pulled back and looked down at Clint, his lips stretched around Phil’s cock, the look on his face was half bliss and half smug, it shouldn’t have looked as good as it did. “You do have quite a mouth, my sweet boy. Are you ready for your reward?”

Clint nodded and started to suck harder, no longer concerned about being found out. He hugged his arms tighter around Phil, almost fucking his mouth down on the older man’s cock until he felt his body seize up and his mouth flooded with his warm, salty reward. He ran his tongue over Phil’s softening dick until it became too sensitive and Phil tugged him off. Reaching up he tucked Phil back into his slacks, looking so relaxed you’d think he was the one that had just had an orgasm. “Thanks, boss.” He leaned up and pressed a kiss onto Phil’s mouth, “I feel much better now.”

He crawled out from underneath the desk and put his pillow back on the couch, “Don’t work too much longer.” Clint made a show of rearranging his erection in his sweats, “I’m going back to your place and starting in an hour, whether you’re there or not.”

Phil was done in record time.


	17. Day 17 : Monsters Fucking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve needs something from Tony that he can't get anywhere else. And Tony is more than happy to give it to him. Literally. 
> 
> Or 
> 
> Once upon a time, a vampire and a werewolf <s>loved</s> fucked each other very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, Kinkvember is in full-swing!!
> 
> For FeistyEpicurean because their comment came right when I needed a kick in the ass.
> 
> Tags: monsters fucking, bare backing, no blood play but mentions of blood (vampires)

“All this cloak and dagger stuff is really hot.” The door had been left propped open an inch and Steve had texted Tony the room number, so he really shouldn’t have been surprised by his over the top entrance. Tony was backlit by the parking lot lights of the no-tell motel that Steve had rented. He raised his arms dramatically, “Look, I even bought a cloak. Coulson lectured me about stereotypes but that man lost his sense of style over a century ago.”

Steve sat on the edge of the motel bed, facing the door, a front row seat to the Tony Stark show. He just sighed and ran his hand through his shaggy hair, “For god’s sake, Tony. Will you get in here before someone sees you?” 

Tony could move in the blink of an eye; Steve had seen it. Which is what made it extra infuriating as Tony meandered into the room. He pushed the door shut with his overpriced shoe and raised an eyebrow at Steve, daring him to say something.

“Why do you always do this? Why do you have to be such an asshole?” Steve could move fast, not as fast as Tony, but faster than any human. But then again, Steve hadn’t been human for a long time. He pressed Tony up against the door, forearm pressing into his windpipe, more of a show of force than a threat, they both knew Tony didn’t actually need to breathe. “Don’t act like you don’t have just as much to lose if they find you here.” Steve wasn’t sure if he was referring to his pack, or Tony’s clan, but either way it was a danger that Tony never seemed to take seriously.

“Down boy.” Tony condescended, “Naughty puppy, you shouldn’t jump up on your guest.” He was smirking. They could be killed, or worse, by both sides and Tony was _smirking. _Steve tensed up, ready to throw Tony out and be done with this reckless arrangement. It was too dangerous and he knew that trusting Tony was going to get him killed.

But before he could say any of that, Tony had him across the room, on his back, sprawled across the bed. He always forgot how strong Tony was, how much power was contained in his smaller frame. It was the reason Steve had brokered this pathetic peace between them. Tony could give him something no one in his pack could provide. “You think too much.” Tony mewed, leaning down to lick the stripe of skin on his neck just next to the edge of his beard, “You want this so badly. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

Tony scraped one of his fangs against Steve’s pulse point, watching the way it made the larger man shiver. He never got tired of having Steve underneath him. His wolf always rose so close to the surface, sometimes when Tony needled just enough, he could see Steve’s eyes flash red. If Tony was a rational man, he would have called it off that very first time, now he just pushed to see if he could make it happen again.

Steve’s breaths were coming in ragged, Tony’s weight bearing down on him, pinning him to the bed. He could break free, but Tony would just pull him back. They’d tried it that way once. Steve had to pay to replace the furniture in the room. “Don’t act like I’m the only one getting something out of this.” The words were practically growled, Tony had a way of making him lose control. It’s what made him hate these nights. It was also what kept him coming back.

Chuckling against Steve’s overheated skin, Tony snuck one hand under his body, squeezing Steve’s ass, “I know exactly what I get out of this.” Tony never missed an opportunity to remind Steve exactly how this arrangement worked. 

Steve’s kind always ran hot, but those words made him go cold. He threw Tony over and straddled his hips, baring his teeth at the other man as if it would only take one more wrong word for Steve to rip out his throat. Tony should have been scared, should have been terrified. There weren’t many ways to kill a vampire, but Steve knew them all. Walking the line between teasing and taunting was delicate, and Tony never seemed to mind when he came down on the wrong side. And tonight was no different.

“What’s a matter Stevie?” Tony grinned, not batting an eyelash at their position, seemingly unafraid of being at the mercy of the beast on top of him, “Big bad Alpha doesn’t like to admit that he likes to bend over and take it? That you beg for me to fill your greedy little hole?” Leaning in as close as their bodies would allow, Tony hissed, “What would your pack think if they knew you liked to be mounted like a bitch?”

There it was. Steve’s eyes flashed red and he lunged down at Tony, but the smaller man was too quick. He grabbed a fistful of Steve’s hair and flipped their positions once more, using his grip on Steve’s hair to pull his head back, exposing the glorious line of his throat. But instead of going for his neck, he pressed a fierce kiss into Steve’s mouth, if it could even be called a kiss, more teeth than tongue. Tony tasted blood in his mouth, the juxtaposition of the heat from Steve’s and the chill from his own. It was intoxicating.

From there it was tearing of clothes and growling from both men. Nails and teeth and desire all combating for dominance. Steve’s shirt fell to the floor, Tony’s following quickly. In his own world, Tony was looked upon with reverence. So much pale skin and even whiter scars, stories from centuries of survival written on his skin. But Steve. He was the real sight, although Tony would never say it out loud. He ran his fingers through the hair on his broad chest, drank in the tanned skin, so warm to the touch it almost hurt. It made a place behind Tony’s ribs ache; he didn’t miss much about being human except this. Except feeling warm. Feeling _alive. _Tony didn’t believe in souls, hadn’t believed in much of anything for hundreds of years. But sometimes he swore he could feel Steve’s soul, life-force, whatever the philosophers were calling it this century, buzzing under his skin. This was the real reason he was here and they both knew it. 

Tony wasn’t sure what Steve saw when he looked at him. Wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The expression on his face was one that Tony could never make out. Tony wasn’t afraid of much, but whatever flitted across Steve’s face terrified him. “Turn around.” he growled out himself, not moving from Steve’s hips, causing him to buck Tony off to get face down.

Tony peeled Steve’s jeans off, taking in the marred expanse of his back, he had his own collection of scars. Gaining Alpha status wasn’t easy. Keeping it was even harder. Werewolves didn’t live as long as vampires, but they lived long enough to watch several generations of humans live and breed and die. And those years had been vicious but Steve had earned every mark on his skin. Tony didn’t catalog every scar, but he did have a favorite. Steve’s jeans and briefs fell on the floor, leaving Steve’s ass up in the air. He reached to run his fingers over the pristine bite mark in Steve’s right cheek. _The last Alpha fought dirty, _Steve had explained one night, in the silence that stretched on after they had sex but before they went their separate ways, _I didn’t like the way he was treating some of our omegas and I spoke up, he got me on the flank when I was in my wolf form_. Steve had laughed darkly, _that’s why he’s not around anymore._

There was so much danger settled right under Steve’s skin and Tony was drawn to it. Couldn’t wait to feel it washing across his tongue. Tony reached for the lube where it had rolled under Steve’s body while they were vying for control. It squeezed it out on his fingers, starting with two, knowing Steve loved the stretch. 

Steve’s fingers curled into the tacky, floral bedspread as Tony breached his body, Tony watched his back arch, engrossed in all the way’s Steve’s body responded to him. As hot as his skin was, it was nothing compared to the heat inside. The first time they’d done this Tony wasn’t sure if he’d be able to actually fuck Steve, if it’d be too much on his chilled body. But they’d made it work and the feeling, the feeling was exquisite. 

His fingers pumped in and out, scissoring but never adding a third, the way Steve groaned when Tony sank into him, stretching to accommodate him, was something Tony eagerly looked forward to. “You ready, baby?” Tony purred, knowing Steve hated the pet names were all the more reason to use them. He wiped his hand on the bed and gripped his leaking cock, rubbing it up and down Steve’s crack, stuttering over his entrance but never pushing in. 

Steve pushed up on his hands, instead of his elbows, looking at Steve over his shoulder with thinly veiled annoyance, “Just do it, Tony. Fuck.”

That was all Tony had been waiting for, Steve’s eyes on him before he pushed inside. He loved watching his mouth drop open and his eyes roll into the back of his head. This big, fierce Alpha so desperate to get fucked. Tony didn’t know much about wolf politics but it seemed pretty shitty that Steve couldn’t admit this to any of his own kind. That he feared their allegiance would shift if they knew the truth. But their bigotry got Tony here, dick deep inside of the larger man, and for that he had to be grateful.

They both needed a moment to adjust, the difference between their body heats so extreme. Tony’s grip tightened on Steve’s hips as he tried to hold himself still. “God you feel so good.” He draped himself over Steve’s back, kissing all the skin he could reach, his chest immediately warming from the contact. “I think about this all the time.” The confession had been whispered into the warm skin, but Tony had no doubt Steve heard him.

His hips started shifting, slowly at first, trying to draw out the evening as long as possible. He knelt back up, using all the strength running through his body to slam into Steve. The howl Steve let lose made a shiver run down his spine. “C’mere.” Tony mumbled, pulling Steve up until they were both kneeling, Steve’s hands wrapped around the headboard as he fucked himself back on Tony. “You love this.” Tony mumbled, nipping and sucking at all Steve’s exposed skin, “You love taking my cock. You look so gorgeous like this, impaled on me.”

Steve’s disheveled hair was falling into his face, he was biting his lower lip as he pushed back against Tony, drinking in his dirty words. His movements were fluid, like poetry, golden skin glistening with sweat as Tony’s tongue danced across Steve’s throat. Everything else Tony just took, but this, this he waited for permission. “Do it.” Steve snarled, hand closing around his cock, knowing what came next was going to push him over the edge.

Tony’s mouth moved down lower, teeth scraping their way down until he got to the sweet spot between Steve’s neck and his shoulder. His fangs sunk in slowly, careful not to go too deep, nothing Steve couldn’t hide for the few days the wounds would take to heal over. Steve immediately started whimpering, he let Tony control the pace now, rocking their bodies together slowly while Tony drank. Tony had fed on all type of creatures, but nothing ever satiated that hunger inside of him. Then came Steve, blood so hot it felt like it was boiling in Tony’s veins. Tony let his eyes slip closed as he sunk into the feeling, actually feeling the path of the blood; from his lips, down his throat, spreading through his chest and arms, all the way down to his fingertips, down through his torso, into his hard cock, through his thighs, down into his toes. Steve consumed him.

With Steve’s hot blood roaring through his veins, it was the closest he’d felt to alive since he’d lost his human life and become something more. He licked over the wound, lapping at the drops of errant blood as they fell. His hand reached for Steve’s erection, massaging the growing knot as he increased his thrusts, knowing they were both close. “Come for me Alpha. Let me feel you.” With Tony’s whispered words, Steve was done. It felt like his entire body pulsed as he came across the bedspread, head thrown back on Tony’s shoulder as both of his hands kept Tony’s wrapped around his knot. 

“Feel that?” Steve’s hand tightened on Tony’s, “One day I’m going to knot you. You’re going to feel that swell inside of you and you’re just going to _take it. _My blood in your veins, my knot in your ass.” Steve’s head lulled towards Tony’s neck, nipping at the skin there, “Then I won’t just be _an _Alpha. I’ll be _your _Alpha.”

This wasn’t how their nights went. Steve came to Tony because he couldn’t ask anyone else for this, couldn’t show any weakness and getting fucked like this was a glaring one. But still the thought of Steve inside his body in so many ways was enough to push him over the edge. Tony’s orgasm was like a sucker punch, it came without warning and left him breathless. Even after Steve’s hands fell away from their bodies and the rest of Tony’s limbs refused to work, he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Steve’s knot. 

Next time, he promised himself. _Next time._

* * *

Clint stood under the overhang at the corner of the motel’s property, he’d followed Steve on enough of these nights to know Tony wasn’t a threat to his Alpha, but Tony wasn’t the only thing hiding in the shadows.

“Careful little boy,” a voice came from the darkness, “don’t you know there are wolves in these parts?”

Turning slowly, he took in the older vampire, emerging from the darkness like a terrible cliché, “I think there are worse things than wolves out tonight.”

In the blink of an eye Clint had the older man pressed against the peeling concrete bricks of the motel. He narrowed his eyes, “You’re late.”

Phil’s lips turned up in a slow smile, his arms snaking around Clint’s body to pull them close, “Sorry babe, Tony still thinks their little trysts are a secret. I had to make sure he didn’t see me.”

“Can you believe they thought they could sneak around without someone watching their backs?” Clint asked rhetorically, leaning in for a kiss.

Phil kissed him deeply, trying to make up for all the time they spent sneaking around after their clueless leaders, “Worked out pretty well for us.”

“Yeah,” Clint smiled a little shyly at the other man, hands fisting in his coat to keep them close, “it really did.”


	18. Day 18 : Cock Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil sets Clint's coffee mug out on the counter for him. Feelings follow. And the best way to deal with feelings? Blow jobs. (Oh, Clint)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each day I get to choose from three prompts, I had been so looking forward to day 18 because one of the prompts was Dom/sub and, obviously, Phil and Clint were MADE for the prompt. But after nights of too too many ideas (and 1500 words of them just doing a scene negation) I scrapped the ideas and the prompt and went for something else. 
> 
> For Cpwatcher, FeistyEpicurean, ArielT and all my Phlint lovers out there. Hope you enjoy!

Waking up in Phil’s bed was something Clint didn’t think he’d ever get used to. It was definitely something he promised himself never to take for granted. The first few months of overnight visits saw them waking up nude, tangled together, still sticky with fluids they were too worn out to clean off. Now Clint was waking up in threadbare boxers and one of Phil’s too tight Rangers shirt and somehow, that was even better. The intimacy of sleeping next to someone without the excuse of sex. Of just sleeping next to someone because, even when you’re asleep, the thought of being apart was too much.

But apparently romance stopped after six months because Clint woke up alone, Phil’s side of the bed cold. Clint groaned when he caught sight of the clock. Eight am on a Saturday? Phil couldn’t sleep in if his life depended on it. _At least_, Clint thought as he dragged himself out of bed, _Phil would have started the coffee maker._

Clint stumbled out into the living room, eyes moving between the kitchen and the living room. Coffee or kisses? He could see a splash of purple on the kitchen counter, his coffee cup sitting next to the maker, definitely not where it had been the night before. The fact that Phil had set his cup out was such a small gesture, but the tightness in his chest was almost unbearable. Most people were so focused on the big things, that the little ones got overlooked. But those little things were what made Clint feel cherished. 

He looked over into the living room where Phil was sitting on the couch reading an honest to god newspaper. Clint didn’t even know they still printed those until he started staying over at Phil’s. He lowered the newspaper and smiled softly at Clint; his jaw unshaven, his glasses slightly askew. He was wearing the Captain America sleep pants that Clint had bought him as a joke (but he absolutely loved) and an old Ramones t-shirt that Clint still couldn’t believe he owned. There was just something about the sight that made Clint realize, _I want to wake up to this every day._

More than that he realized; _I love this man._

Clint turned away from the kitchen and headed straight to Phil, who looked a little confused but quickly discarded the paper, another little thing that made Clint light up. Phil treated him like a priority, never an annoyance. “Good morning.” Phil leaned up for a kiss and smiled and all of a sudden that tightness was gone. This was it; Phil was _it_ for him. Clint realized that he’d never have to face another day without this wonderful man.

Under the guise of leaning in to return the kiss Clint sank to his knees in front of the couch and ran his palms over Phil’s thighs, “I really wanna suck you off.” Phil’s eyes went wide behind his thick framed glasses, obviously expecting a much different greeting from the younger man, “Please?”

Phil wasn’t sure what brought on the early morning offer but he wasn’t going to pass it up. He lifted his hips to slide his pants down, his soft dick nestled between his thighs, “I don’t know if my dick is awake yet, but I just can’t say no to you.” 

Clint reached up to Phil’s shoulder and pushed him back into the couch, watching him fully relax into the cushion. He dragged his hand down Phil’s deceptively muscled chest until he got to the hem of his shirt. He pulled it back so he could lean in and press his face right below his bellybutton, making sure to scratch at the delicate skin with the scruff growing in on his jaw. 

Slowly he kissed a trail down Phil’s body to his dick, it was still barely half hard but Clint loved feeling it come alive in his hand, in his mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss on the head and ran the tip of his nose down the length of the shaft, practically caressing it. There was a faint smell of soap clinging to Phil’s skin but the scent of his musk was even stronger and Clint _loved _that smell. 

He traced the growing length with his tongue before moving further down to nuzzle at his balls, he licked at them until that wasn’t enough. He took one into his mouth, sucking on it gently before moving to the other. He pressed his whole face into Phil’s crotch, nestling into his most private place, licking at everything he could reach and making sure his unshaven jaw was scraping against Phil’s soft inner thigh. He felt Phil bucking slightly above him, his name spilling from the older man’s lips. The sounds were intoxicating, Clint felt dizzy from the whimpers falling down around him.

Moving slowly, he mouthed at the shaft of Phil’s erection before licking at the head where it was pressed against Phil’s stomach. Phil was starting to leak just a little and Clint was determined to lap up each drop. He hadn’t even realized his eyes had dropped shut, focusing only on the way Phil’s body felt under him and the taste of the man on his tongue. 

“Clint… Please… I…” Phil’s words were barely more than a strangled murmur and part of Clint wanted to suck him down and make him come. But a bigger part of him wanted to draw this out and make it last. 

Pulling back he ran his fingers over Phil’s shaft, realizing for the first time how _soft _the skin was there. Phil was slightly larger than average, Clint knew that well, but he never realized how warm to the touch his cock was when it was engorged like this, or how it curved just a bit to the right. With his fist loose he jerked Phil off slowly, focusing on the way he felt in his hands and the noises each touch elicited. 

Clint was always a very gracious lover, so being treated with care was something Phil had come to expect from his lover. But this kind of treatment bordered on worship and it felt enormous, as if Clint’s actions were expanding and filling the room, the entire apartment. Very slowly he reached out and slid his hand around the back of Clint’s neck, he squeezed gently, “That feels really good, sweetheart.” 

Clint’s hand paused for a moment and finally looked up into Phil’s eyes and said the words that had only hit him minutes earlier, “I love you, Phil.”

Phil’s eyes went wide once more, this time more in amazement than confusion, but before he could respond Clint finally took Phil into his mouth, swallowing him down zealously. His tongue moved up the underside of the shaft, making sure to tease the spot right under the head that always drove him crazy. Phil’s hands balled into the shoulders of Clint’s shirt as his orgasm hit him suddenly, causing his entire body to spasm and collapse. 

Using his grip on Clint’s shirt he pulled the other man up into his lap, kissing him deeply, despite (or because of) where Clint’s mouth had just been. Finally, he pulled back to look into Clint’s eyes, trying to parse out all the emotions there, there was really only one that mattered at that moment. He reached up to cradle Clint’s head in his hands, “I love you too, Clint.” 

Phil reached for the waistband of Clint’s boxers but he just shook his head, “That was for setting out my coffee cup.” He pressed a kiss to Phil’s cheek then moved to sprawl across the couch, waiting for Phil to adjust his sleep pants before using his thigh as a pillow.

“That was for _setting out your coffee cup?_” he didn’t bother to hide the surprise in his voice as he carded his fingers through Clint’s hair. “I can’t wait to see what you do when I make you breakfast.”

Clint just yawned and dragged the throw from the back of the couch, “Wake me up when it’s ready and you’ll find out.”


	19. Day 19 : Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint jumped after Phil specifically told him not to, Phil decides Clint needs to learn a lesson.
> 
> Tags: spanking, punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone cries and no one gets an erection! The EXACT opposite of what I sat down to write. Sometimes the muse just grabs you, and sometimes the muse is a vicious bitch.
> 
> For QuinnMGrey, thanks for the love.

“You know why we’re doing this, right?” Phil’s stern voice rang out in the otherwise silent room. He could feel Clint’s chest rapidly falling against his thighs were Clint laid across his lap, his pants pooled around his knees, shirt rucked up midway around his belly. 

Clint preferred to be nude when they did this, which is why Phil left him partially dressed, tonight wasn’t about what Clint wanted, tonight was about Clint learning a lesson. “Because I didn’t listen.” Clint’s words came so softly that Phil nearly missed them. Clint knew he screwed up but Phil doubted very much Clint understood the depths of his misstep.

“What else?” he made sure the heavy edge in his voice was heard, seeing Clint shrink in on himself wasn’t something Phil normally enjoyed, but it was a necessary evil.

“I…” Clint swallowed thickly, no doubt trying to remember Phil’s words, he had hoped that now, hours after the mission, Clint would really understand and be able to use words of his own. “I was reckless.” There was a tremble in his voice, distantly Phil wondered if Clint would start crying before he even started.

Phil reached down to fist the hair at the base of his skull, tugging on it not too gently, “Reckless with _what?” _he barked, not knowing how else to make Clint understand. “You were reckless with what I absolutely love the most. What is that Clint?”

There was a time when Clint would have been flippant, would have named Phil’s car or his collection of Captain America trading cards. But those nights were long past and Clint knew, without a doubt, what Phil loved most. “Me, sir. I was reckless with myself.” And there it was, a break in Clint’s voice, Phil didn’t have to see his face to know that the tears were already falling. “You told me not to jump, but I did. I…” he gasped, struggling to maintain any composure he had left, “I disobeyed you and I put myself in unnecessary danger.”

Phil’s hands smoothed over Clint’s bare ass, warming up the exposed skin, unable to stop himself from providing some form of comfort even if it was in direct opposition to the punishment he was trying to inflict. “Clint, I know you spent a long time believing you didn’t matter to anyone, that you weren’t worthy of being loved, being cared for.” Phil’s steady words only made Clint’s silent tears fall faster, how many nights had they spent wrapped up in Phil’s comforter while Clint showed Phil each of his broken pieces and Phil so patiently put him back together again. “I thought we were passed that but I need you to listen to me. You are the person I love the most, that I cherish and adore. If you can’t be cautious for yourself, then you need to be cautious for me. Because, honestly Clint, I think losing you like that might actually kill me.”

Emotions always made Clint feel flayed open, exposed and raw. Tonight was worse because he knew he had needlessly disappointed Phil. There were a dozen other ways to solve his dilemma, but jumping was the easiest and he hadn’t thought to ensure a safe landing. He was lucky, the way he usually was, Tony had grabbed him before he had time to panic. He knew one day his luck would run out. He never really cared. Until Phil.

“So tonight, you’re going to count for me. I want to hear each number out loud. It won’t be fun and you won’t enjoy it. Pleading with you hasn’t worked so I’m hoping pain might.” Phil had wanted to use his hand, wanted Clint to feel that the pain was coming from a place of love, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough. He got out the leather paddle which was guaranteed to make Clint’s ass a vivid shade of red. Phil wanted him to be uncomfortable during his debrief the following day, wanted him to equate his carelessness with the ache in his ass. 

Phil usually warmed him up when they were doing this for fun. He’d start out playfully, just teasing him, making Clint beg Phil to hit him harder. But not tonight. He brought the paddle down hard, the sound of the slap echoing off the pale walls. The painful cry it elicited let Phil know he was on the right path, “One.”

As soon as the word fell from Clint lips, Phil brought the paddle down again. He watched Clint’s ass shake from the motion and then the skin pink up in the shape of the instrument, “Two.”

Smacks three, four and five followed quickly, Clint’s voice was becoming shakier with each number. His ass was already a lovely shade of pink. Phil normally told Clint how many to expect, knowing it was easier to push yourself when you knew the end was nearing. But that was the exact reason why Phil hadn’t.

By eight Clint was crying openly, big heaving sobs as he struggled to count out the swats. It was getting more difficult for Clint to hold still, he kept trying to shrink away from the paddle but Phil couldn’t let that happen. If this didn’t force Clint to understand how important his safety was, nothing would. 

Phil reached across Clint’s lower back and kept ahold of his hip so he couldn’t move too much, Phil feared inadvertently injuring him too badly if the paddle came down somewhere he didn’t intend it to. Ten came down hard and Clint just yelled out a guttural wail, Phil caught a glimpse of the side of his face where it was pressed against the mattress, his eyes were red and there was tears and snot smeared across his skin. He paused but no number came, “I don’t hear you counting, Clint.”

“Ten!” came between ragged sobs, “I’m sorry Phil.” He pressed his face deep into the mattress and screamed, primal and fierce, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Phil waited for his safeword but it never came. Just cries and pleas and apologies. He slid the palm of his hand over the heated skin, taking in the bright red color, he had planned for twenty but it was breaking his heart, hurting Clint like this. He dropped the paddle and cupped Clint’s cheeks, squeezing none too delicately, Clint let out a struggled cry, “Feel that Clint, feel that pain burning through your body? That’s _nothing _compared to how I’d feel if something happened to you.”

Clint didn’t wait to be told they were done, instead he just crawled up into Phil’s lap, straddling one of Phil’s thighs despite the pants he was tangled up in. He cupped Phil’s face, staring into his eyes with a crazed desperation Phil hadn’t seen before, “I’m sorry, Phil. I promise. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll _be _better.”

Pressing his forehead against Clint’s, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, calm his heart, “Just promise me that you’ll do your best to come home to me every night. I know we take chances; I know it’s our jobs. But I won’t lose you like that. Not when there was another way. If you risk your life, make it worth it.” And now it was Phil’s turn to feel his emotions just slipping through his fingers, voice breaking as his hands slid over Clint’s ass, watching the younger man wince, “I don’t want to do that again.”

Clint pressed his face into Phil’s neck, inhaling the scent of aftershave and soap that always calmed him down, “I won’t give you a reason to.”

Phil pressed a kiss into Clint’s temple and nodded to the bed, “Get undressed and I’ll get the cream.”

Clint had a terrible habit of throwing his clothes around the bedroom, Phil had tripped over countless pairs of tact pants. So, he smiled softly when he came out of the bathroom and saw all of Clint’s clothes in the hamper. “Look at me sweetheart.” He sat on the edge of the bed and wiped Clint’s face with a warm wash cloth, looking down at him with bare reverence on his face, “I love you.” He tried to say it often as he could, Clint always looked so surprised by the words and Phil longed for the day when acceptance would replace the disbelief.

The cream was cold against Clint’s angry skin but Phil’s hand settled him. Phil wasn’t sure if this would work, if spanking Clint like an unruly child would help him make better decisions. But if it didn’t, Phil would go back to the drawing board. He would keep trying until Clint understood how important he was to Phil, how much he was loved and wanted and _needed. _He would keep reassuring Clint until, one day, he figured it out for himself. 


	20. Day 20 : Sadism/Masochism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil takes Clint to the club they first met at for their first public scene. 
> 
> aka
> 
> Floggers and paddles and come; oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember yesterday when I said I sat down to write a spanking prompt and it totally got away from me because my muse is the boss and I just do what she says? Turns out she wanted to cooperate tonight. This is the story I meant to write yesterday but my muse is a crafty bitch and decided to make an appearance tonight.
> 
> tags: flogging, paddling, public sex

The club was packed, Phil kept a hand on Clint’s lower back as they made their way through the crowd. Here he didn’t have to pretend it was under the pretense of not losing the younger man. Here it was a sign of ownership as sure as the thin collar around Clint’s throat. They made their way towards the hallway at the far end of the dance floor that lead to the private rooms. Before they entered Phil reached down and squeezed Clint’s hand, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Clint just grinned, not a nerve in sight, “I’ve been dreaming about this all week, Sir. I’m sure.” 

Not for the first time Phil wondered how he’d gotten so lucky, he was an ordinary man in every way, average height, thinning hair, wealthier than most but in a way that came from hard work, not old money. He was the kind of man who didn’t turn heads, the kind who blended into the background. But Clint had seen him. Clint in his tight jeans and even tighter tank tops. Clint had approached him in the club, asking to buy Phil a drink. Which was enough to raise his eyebrows because the offer was always the opposite and sometimes the guys didn’t even stick around after Phil paid. He didn’t make any crude offers, which really wouldn’t have been too out of place for the environment, he just introduced himself and started a casual conversation over fresh bottles of beer. Numbers had been exchanged, long conversations followed and six months later Phil had bought the collar. 

Making their way down the hallway Phil noted several had open windows, inviting strangers to watch, and a few even had open doors, inviting strangers to join in. “I reserved your favorite room.” Phil said as he pushed open lucky number seven, walls a deep purple, contrasting against the sleep black furniture. He shut the door and kept the blinds drawn. For now. 

He set his bag inside the door and stepped up behind Clint, running his palms up and down his bare arms, he leaned into Clint’s ear, “I’m going to strap you down just like we talked about, beat you senseless and fuck you even harder.” He nipped at his throat right above the collar before reaching for Clint’s jaw, forcing him to look at the window, “And anyone who walks by will watch you take it. They’ll see how beautiful you are when you’re in pain, when you take everything I give you.” He stepped back and heard Clint whimper when all touch was withdrawn. “Are you ready, pet?”

Clint’s body was a live wire, his entire frame was drifting backwards, trying to contact any part of Phil’s body. His head was tipped back displaying the intoxicating slope of his throat, of the way his collar sat against his Adam’s apple, his eyes were closed, already sinking into the scene, “Yes, Sir.”

Phil pulled off Clint’s tank then knelt in front of Clint and untied his boots, slipping each from his foot, followed by his socks. He ran his thumbs over the arch of Clint’s foot, one at a time. This was Phil’s favorite way to begin and end a scene. Lavishing Clint with affection, reassuring him that what was to follow came from a place of love and understanding, never anger. Clint had a difficult time reconciling his masochism with his childhood. Phil made sure he knew exactly how much he was cared for. He reached up to unbuckle his belt before sliding his pants down Clint’s well-muscled thighs. He took a moment to sink his teeth into the skin there, just playful enough to elicit laughter from Clint. Clint’s briefs followed and Phil allowed himself a moment to appreciate Clint’s growing erection, tracing the thick vein with his tongue before standing up to fold Clint’s clothing. 

When everything was set to the side Phil motioned for Clint to kneel up on the spanking bench. Clint was face down, arms on a padded support on either side of his chest, legs spread apart where they each rested on their own pads. Phil took his time to fasten each Velcro strap. First Clint’s ankles, then his calves, up to his wrists and forearms. It almost looked like he was suspended in a lewd kneel. His pert ass up in the air, his legs pried apart, the only body part he could move was his head. Phil had never seen something so stunning. 

He ran his hands through Clint’s hair then pulled gently, forcing the other man to look up at him, “What’s your word, Clint?”

His eyes were already heavily lidded, he licked his lips then swallowed, “Waverly.”

Phil pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Good. You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Here we go.”

The curtains were easy enough to pull open, the dimness of the hallway against the brighter lights of the room meant you really had to strain to see if someone was out there. But Phil had spread the word, Clint wanted to be watched and Phil was going to make sure he got exactly what he wanted.

Phil grabbed his bag from where he had discarded it and pulled out his flogger and his paddle. The club had items available for use but Phil liked to use his own. He knew how they felt in his hands, knew exactly how they handled. He wouldn’t hurt his sub inadvertently by using equipment he was unfamiliar with. 

“I’m going to warm you up with this.” Phil let the tips of the flogger brush up and down Clint’s back, “You don’t have to count but I want you to make as much noise as you want.” He slipped his finger under Clint’s collar and jerked his attention towards the mirror, “They all came to watch you, pet. Let’s give ‘em a show.”

Before Clint could even acknowledge Phil’s words, the flogger came down on his back, the sensation, at first, little more than a tickle, then his brain caught up and his mouth fell open. God, Phil was good with that thing. The next strike came on the opposite side of his back, he whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the sensation. He couldn’t see Phil shaking his head, but he could hear it in his voice as he said, “Eyes open, let them see you, baby.”

The next two smacks were in quick succession and Clint tried to buck away, feeling the bonds biting into his skin as he struggled. Phil slapped Clint’s ass with his hand, “None of that, pet. You need to stay still." The flogger came down again, this time on Clint’s thigh, the tails curling around his sensitive flesh, biting into the thin skin there, “See why it’s so important to stay still?” He brushed Clint’s balls with the tails of the flogger, just tickling them really, “If you move, I could hit something you’d rather not have hit.” Clint moaned and writhed against the bonds, Phil wasn’t exactly sure what the moan meant, it could have been in response to the attention on his balls, or even more intriguing it could have been a response to his words. “Or maybe you would, hm? We’ll talk about that another time.”

Phil used precise movements to hit the other thigh, watching the pale skin pink up instantly. Clint had skin that just ached to be abused, Phil couldn’t have dreamed up such a responsive partner. The tails on the flogger left precise lines on Clint’s back and Phil wanted to trace them all with his tongue. He wanted to feel the heat and the perfect edge of each raised mark. But this wasn’t about what he wanted. Instead he discarded the instrument and stepped up between Clint’s spread legs. His back and thighs were an angry red, which juxtaposed wonderfully against the pale, untouched skin of his ass. Phil raked his blunt nails down Clint’s back, his cries only served to excite Phil and the growing audience outside the window. 

He squeezed Clint’s ass, reminding him that they were no where near finished, “What’s your color?”

“Green.” He shouted, anguish and agony laced heavy in his voice, “So green, Sir.”

Clint was more than beautiful, when he was trussed up like this, he was a work of art. Phil just couldn’t believe that he got command of the younger man. That all that muscle, all that power, was obedient to him, to his dark desires. To _their d_ark desires. 

“How many people are out there, pet? Can you count them?” Phil continued to paw at Clint’s body as he spoke, pulling the cheeks of his ass apart, brushing his thumb over Clint’s tight entrance. He couldn’t wait to take Clint in front of all these people, to mount him like an animal claiming it’s mate. It was primal. Clint brought out those urges in a way no one had before.

Clint was struggling to count, the pain was forefront in his mind, the feeling of Phil’s hands exposing his hole close behind. He started over a few times before he stuttered out, “Fourteen, Sir.”

Releasing his grasp on Clint he went over to his items and picked up the paddle. “Fourteen? Fourteen people watching you, tied up and helpless while I torment your beautiful body?” He ran the edge of the paddle along Clint’s headed skin, “You’re going to take fourteen strikes. One for every pair of eyes on you. And if you’re very, very good, I may even let you come when we’re done.” Phil reached down between Clint’s spread legs and pumped his leaking, neglected cock, “Would you like that, my sweet pet?”

Clint nodded immediately, drawing eyes to the stretch of his neck, the dark collar against his skin, the sweat slick hairs that were curling up at the base of his neck. Everything about Clint was designed to draw eyes in and keep them glued. “Then count for me.” Phil commanded, not giving any more of a warning before bringing the paddle down on the underside of Clint’s ass, watching as the motion made his entire ass bounce. 

“One!” Clint cried out; his face tight with pain that evened out as soon as he was able to catch his breath. Distantly he watched all the men and women outside the window and wondered what they saw. Did they see the strength in his submission? Did they see how good he was being for Phil, _because _of Phil? Did they even _see _Phil? It still astonished him how people’s eyes could pass over Phil and not see him for what he was. This powerful, commanding man that Clint could sense across a crowded bar.

Clint let that feeling wash over him, the feeling he got when he spotted Phil and just _knew, _“Two!” Phil wasn’t going easy on him, each slap of the paddle took his breath away. He had worried a little, this being their first time playing in public, that Phil would hold back. If anything he had more force behind each movement, more power in each decision. 

By the time Clint got to four he was gasping, wriggling again like a worm on a hook. “I thought you were going to be good?” Phil challenged, bringing the paddle down again. Less worried about placement now that he was clear of things like genitals and kidneys. 

“Fiiiiiiiive.” His voice was trembling, his hands in tight fists where they were belted tight against the arm rest, “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll be better, Sir.” 

Phil was a sadist. He loved making other people hurt. But only in ways that they both enjoyed. He leaned over and pressed a kiss into Clint’s sweaty temple, “You’re doing beautifully, sweetheart. I’m proud of how well you’re taking the pain. I know it’s not easy but you’re doing it for me and you’re doing so well. Just nine more to go. Do you think you can take it?”

The words broke something in Clint, his entire body relaxed but tears started falling, “Yes, Sir.” 

Six… Seven… Eight… The sounds spilling out of the younger man were gorgeous, the tears spilling from his eyes, even better. Each time the paddle came down tears followed, Phil was entranced, they’d never had such an intense scene before. Clint was sobbing and screaming and his dick was rock hard. Phil had never seen someone who luxuriated in the pain the way Clint did. It was like they were destroying all the bad memories and replacing them with something new, something stronger, something better.

Nine… Ten… Eleven… Clint was hoarse from the shouting, he was struggling against his bonds, struggling to keep his eyes open, to watch the growing crowd that was far more than the fourteen people that had been there at the beginning. The pain in his shoulders and back had subsided some, making way for the bright bloom of pain that would erupt each time Phil struck him. His cock was hard and leaking, curled up tight against his body, but that too was pushed to the back of his mind. There was only Phil, and his paddle, and the counting.

Twelve.

Thirteen.

Fourteen rang out and Clint swore the sound of the paddle against his ass echoed against the walls. He was a mess of tears and snot and drool and somehow, through it all, he believed Phil when he called him beautiful. He had taken so much for Phil and he’d loved every minute of it. He basked in the pain, the thrum of his blood so close under his skin, like pop rocks in his veins. 

Phil dropped the paddle in the bag and grabbed the bottle of lube. When they negotiated this part of the scene Clint wanted Phil to just take him. No prep, minimal lube, he wanted the penetration to be the grand finale, not an afterthought. But Phil had his limits and he wasn’t risking Clint’s health. Safe, sane and consensual was what they had promised each other.

They decided to leave it up to Phil’s discretion so he shoved in two lubed fingers, scissoring them just enough that it would still hurt, but not cause any lingering pain. Clint had started moving against the bench, trying in vain to push back against Phil’s hand, “Please, Sir. Please.”

Phil unzipped his slacks, pushing away the thoughts of their audience as he coated himself in lube and pushed inside Clint, burying himself in one swift motion. Clint’s cries were going straight to Phil’s cock, so when they tapered off into near silent whimpers, Phil leaned his weight against Clint’s thighs and butt, grinding against the raw skin. The way Clint threw his head back and howled nearly made Phil come far too soon.

Snapping against Clint’s body he made sure his slacks scratched against Clint’s heated skin, overloading him on pain and sensations. Clint was a sniveling, whimpering mess and Phil couldn’t get enough. When Phil was almost on the edge he draped as much of his body over Clint’s as he could manage and grabbed his neglected dick, “Come for me, pet. Show them how pretty you are when you let go.”

Clint didn’t need to be told twice, he came immediately, his entire body trashing against the bonds as he spent himself. The feeling of Clint’s tight hole spasming around his dick was too much, Phil pulled out and jerked himself off, coming all over Clint’s tortured back and buttocks. 

Phil slumped in on himself, the scene taking so much out of him both physically and emotionally. He was almost bleary eyed with exhaustion, but he had a sub to care for and that thought was always enough to keep him going. 

He tucked himself back into his pants and walked over to the window, waving at the gathered crowd as he drew the blinds. Aftercare was private. Thoroughly whipped and freshly fucked was a version of Clint he didn’t want to share. He loosened all of Clint’s bonds and helped him stand up slowly, letting him work out the kinks in his arms and legs as Phil showered his face with kisses, “So perfect, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

Taking Clint by the hand he walked him over to the corner of the room, Clint drank down a bottle of water before laying face down on the small bed. Baby wipes were fully stocked and Phil wiped down Clint’s face, so much love in each gesture that they didn’t need words. Next, he gently wiped down Clint’s backside where Phil had come all over him. Despite the pain Phil knew he must be causing, Clint had laughed, “What was _that_ all about?”

It wasn’t what they had negotiated, Phil was supposed to finish inside him. Clint loved feeling it leak out of him for the rest of the night. “Sorry.” Phil said softly, inspecting Clint’s body to ensure he hadn’t injured him any more than planned. “I don’t know what came over me. All those people watching and I just wanted to _claim _you. But it wasn’t what we talked about and for that I really am sorry. I hope it didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

Clint looked over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows in Phil’s direction, “Are you kidding? That was so hot.” He reached for Phil’s hand and squeezed it, “I trust you, Phil. That means it’s okay if we go off script.” 

The faith Clint had in him was heady, that someone could trust in him so completely was something he tried not to take lightly. “Still, I got a little carried away and next time I’ll try to stay more focused.”

Grinning, “All I heard was _next time._” Clint really was incredible and Phil thanked any and every god for bringing them together.

Phil reached for the chocolates on the shelf next to the bed, he unwrapped one to feed to Clint, who nipped playfully at his fingertips, apparently still riding out all the endorphins. Phil fed him a few more before grabbing the lotion and working it into Clint’s battered skin. Clint hissed each time Phil touched a particularly sensitive spot but Phil followed up every touch with a kiss, whispering words of adoration as he worked over the skin. Finally, Phil collapsed on the bed next to him and gathered the younger man in his arms, “You were stunning, Clint.” His fingers traced around the collar, “I can’t believe you’re mine.” It was more than he meant to say out loud but Clint deserved to hear it.

They cuddled for half an hour before Clint decided he was willing to sit in the car to get back to their own bed. Phil helped him up then grabbed his bag, pulling out a pair of sweats and flip flops. In went the boots and all Clint’s club clothes, along with the toys he bought. He looked almost confused for a moment, “You brought me a change of clothes?”

Phil set the sandals on the floor then knelt at Clint’s feet, helping him step into the sweats. He gingerly pulled the pants over Clint’s warm skin, “Did you think I expected you to squeeze into those tight pants after I paddled your ass? Phil pressed a kiss below Clint’s bellybutton before standing up, he would never get tired of each and every inch of Clint’s body.

“I … guess I hadn’t thought of that? I mean, no one’s ever…” Clint looked almost sheepish, like he was embarrassed to admit that no one had ever cared for him the way Phil did.

Phil leaned in to capture Clint in a gentle kiss, “I’ll always take care of you, for as long as you’ll let me.” He held the zip up hoodie for Clint to shrug on, he’d packed it in case Clint’s arms were too swore from being belted to the bench. Phil tried to think of everything.

Phil slowly zipped up the hoodie, disappointed with each inch of skin he had to cover. He left the zipper down a little lower than maybe was polite but they weren’t in an environment known for its manners. 

After giving the room a once over, Phil took Clint’s hands and led him through the club. Clint was keenly aware of every set of eyes on them. Most of them wanted to be Phil that night, they wanted to whip Clint, watch him squirm and cry and come. They wanted to be leading him out of the building and into the privacy of the dark night. But the others, they wanted to be _him_. They were looking Phil over with a new appreciation, finally seeing the Dom than hid within the unassuming man. That was what made Clint stand up a little straighter, he was _Phil’s. _He belonged to Phil just as sure as Phil belonged to him and others could stare and wish and covet, but he had recognized something within Phil that everyone else just passed up, and he was going to enjoy every minute of it.


End file.
